Seyi, I call you literarily 100 times in my head every day. Keep resonating about our life and thinking how this time last year was playing out. I was almost forcing you to just get a small cake to celebrate your birthday, not knowing it was going to be the last. This year will still be the same way I celebrate you, you're just not physically here, but I feel you on your side of the bed; therefore, we will still do our kind of celebration. I will still wait till midnight on the 30th to pray for you (not that you need it anymore, so I will sow the prayer to your sons), sing you a goofy birthday song, give you the simplest and inexpensive but meaningful gift you would normally ask for (I usually have it engraved, but you don't need that anymore). We would talk about all the nothingness, make fun of one another, but this time; I will only hear and cherish all the beautiful words you have deposited into me. Your side of the bed is empty. I now sit where you would normally watch basketball and eat your meal without resting your back (and I get on your nerves whenever I tell you to relax that basketball isn't that deep). Happy first in heaven, our Angel. We miss you so dearly. I miss all that you represent to me. I miss all the fun things we did and all the names you have for me, depending on your mood and how well I perform as a dutiful wife. My love, continue to enjoy heaven. I celebrate you every day and will always do. Thank you for the lovely memories you left with us. Love you always.