Three months, four months

Levi James is three months old today. He weighs about 16 pounds, is bigger and taller than about 90 percent of babies his age, and has already sent us on our first trip to the ER (for croup). He is an incredibly calm and cheerful baby. He's been trying hard to talk to Sylvia like she talks to him, and he makes earnest little cooing noises that sound like "hey" and "hi." He flirts with me by tilting his head away and smiling, and it melts my heart every time.

Four months ago yesterday, Jim died. A third of a year. I still can't believe it -- both that it happened and that so much time has passed already. (Of course, it's also no time at all.) I don't want to stop thinking of him in the present tense. I don't want this loss to feel far away, or like it happened a long time ago. Time seems to keep charging on, making babies grow up and delight us in new ways and adding months to the amount of time it's been since I last saw my brother. But I can still see him so crisply, hear his voice and his laugh so perfectly. I'm grateful for that.