T, you are making squirmy baby noises in the corner as I type.

I mean, I wish i could describe it better for you, but the echo of squeaks and grunts and grumbles is something I am nostalgic about at this point.

I remember them with H. And I remember them with K.

So here I sit, enjoying them a few last times, before too many more days go by.

It makes my heart ache for the past.

T, I can’t believe tonight is your first night at home.

Welcome.

I love you.

-Dad