In an article, a reporter called Daddy brave for speaking up about SIDS and what it is like to live with your death. Well, son, Daddy hardly feels brave at all. Brave is for people who rush into burning buildings or save lives or stand up against oppression, and Daddy has done none of those things. All Daddy did was fail, and that failure eats away still. Yes, I know, failure assumes being able to succeed in the first place, which would imply that Daddy had a choice between the two. So, logically speaking, one could draw a line straight from no choice to no failure. It seems simple enough, but it really is not.
One thing your Daddy does know is that the concept of him being brave is just that, a concept, a figment of the imagination, and just not something Daddy feels. Maybe in some eyes it is true, but what bravery or courage does it take to talk about one of the two most important people in my life? The talking about you, about SIDS, about all the hurt and anger, about the deep pain that still exists is just a way to preserve sanity. That is not bravery, that is survival, and with Christmas, then your first birthday, and then the one year anniversary of your death coming way too fast, survival is about all Daddy can muster right now.
I love you and miss you very much!