One year ago, today, we handed you over to the surgical staff at St. Louis Children's Hospital.
They took your mangled, strawberry-sized heart and turned it into a full-blown, healthy ticking machine.
Last night, Daddy and I talked and talked, trying to remember happiness before you.
And we could.
But it wasn't the same.
It wasn't nearly loud enough.
Or clumsy enough.
Or sticky enough.
Or messy enough.
Happy didn't have the sound of a bottom bumping down the hall.
Or a dweebie shrieking morning greetings at the top of his lungs.
Happy wasn't leaving my floor under an inch of water at bathtime.
And happy was nearly 24 pounds lighter.
So, you'll need to stick around for a bit, Biggs.
Because happy just isn't as good without you.
Happy heart day, Biggs.
You fill ours up to the very tip top.