Because I'm still in love with you on this harvest moon

Happy birthday, my sweet boy. It's 6 year today, since you came into the world. We enter into fall. There's a Japanese Moon Festival that I thought I would take your little sister and brother to tonight to celebrate you and look at the harvest moon. It's sold out. Next year? Tonight, instead, we will go to E's house in the countryside and watch the moon there. We'll probably cook some food and maybe make some crafts with the kids. Tears fall singulary from my eyes already throughout the morning and now, at 6 years later, I know they just will and to let them go as they do. What has changed? Not our love. Not our remembrance. Not our longing for you. But, life moves quickly here on planet earth, it does. We live in a new house, new town, new state. Your little sister turned 4 last April and your little brother will be 3 in a couple of months. It's hard for me to write too much without them constantly interrupting me, but I try just the same. We opened up a restaurant - the dream that began with you and making a home for ourself in the states - it came to fruition about 5 years after you were born. I am trying to make larger commitments to myself to finishing writing your story and am applying to a program to help me do that and help me become a stronger writer, in the process. I like to believe that you are still with us in moments. That there is a larger veil that gently enwraps our world with the other world. That we experience together still a love that doesn't die...just as the poem I read before we let you go "love doesn't die, people do. So, when all that is left of me is love, give me away". We gave you away to the sky, to that great Oak tree that I lay beneath in my wheelchair, as I held you. We gave you away to my Papou who I saw taking you into his arms. We gave you away to songs sung in grief, joy, and freedom. Languages like Greek, Italian, Hebrew, Irish, Native American. I continue to live, as does your father, because you taught us to love so greatly that we could create your sister and brother. But, today, we feel most deeply your physical absence in our family. Today, I feel a longing to have you here in my lap. Today, I celebrate you and all the gifts you brought us with your arrival and stay, however brief, so profound were those 10 days, they could have been a lifetime. I love you, sweet boy. Happy 6th birthday!