Finished your son’s last book for 1000 Books before Kindergarten and turned in his sheet today. We had started it before you died.

You never got to see him say a two-word utterance. In early June, I’d told you he might have said “boat gone” on our walk looking at the river. You said “that seems like a stretch.”

Now he can say “you read a thousand books and the last book was Grumpy Gloria!”

You should be here. You would have been proud.