Nine months ago today, Cole passed away. Last month, the 16th went by, and I didn't realize it until a couple of days later. From October until April, I was emotional on the 16th. Even in the few days leading up to the 16th of those months I felt down. Perhaps I was subconsciously aware of it. Having "let" that day go by last month, I felt like maybe everything was getting easier. But here it is, the 16th of June, and I felt sad for part of the day. Maybe it's also because tomorrow is Father's day, and Mother's Day was hard for me. I asked my husband yesterday how he was feeling about Father's day, and he said he was just proud to be Cole's daddy. He wanted to visit the cemetery today, so we did. As strange as it sounds, I love to go "visit" Cole. The cemetery sits behind a quaint little country church surrounded by trees, and it's only about 15 minutes from home. It's so quiet and peaceful there. I enjoy brushing stray pieces of grass from Cole's stone and admiring the cute little lamb we had engraved on it. We have a blue pinwheel stuck in the ground, and when it spins and spins, I picture Cole waving excitedly to me from Heaven. I just know he's having a beautiful, perfect life there. I miss my baby. Nine months is much, much too long to have not seen him. But I know he's happy. I know with certainty I will see him again someday.