He should be turning 10 today, double digits. I vaguely remember turning 10 myself, and the excitement behind those 2 digits in my age instead of 1. I remember feeling older and cooler in a sense. I wonder if Payton would have felt that way too. In fact, I am left to wonder a lot of things about Payton. I wonder how tall he would be now. Based on the average growth of children, he would be 50 inches tall now, and weigh around 60lbs (measuring from pre-DIPG body). I don’t know though, maybe his appetite would have gotten bigger and maybe he would be bigger. It still angers me that I have to guess what he would look like now, what kinds of foods would be his favorites now, if he would be excited for school to start back, if he would be playing football this year, if he would still like snuggling with me, and if he would still like any of the toys that sit in his room barely touched now unless we have kids over. I don’t often allow myself to really think deeply about all of this, because it just makes me cry uncontrollably and makes me feel physically sick. I am already forced to relive his death in my mind every single day due to PTSD, so when I choose to actually think deeply about him, I try to only think about the positive moments. It really does me no good to wonder, but I still do at times, especially on a day like today- his birthday. Another birthday passing by without him. I’m taking the day off to prepare for a party at our house, being surrounded by our favorite people to celebrate Payton and have 1 last summer party before the leaves change colors. Happy heavenly birthday my sweet boy. I miss you every second and I love you so much.