Those big soft hands, those wrangler jeans, that sideway smile, that generous heart, those words of encouragement throughout the years, that easy laugh, that tender heart, those motorcycles and rice fields, the sacrament with mom, the courage and faith and tendency to worry, those funny expression of yours that I keep saying so I won't forget.
Today was your birthday.
As the years have moved forward, nine and counting, the strangeness it is, first utter sadness of the inevitable, then the feeling of loss that the haunting space renders, eventually a voice within that isn't loud but soothing, time transforms physical death to spiritual birth. An inner connection that heals the loss of a loved one.
After nine years days go by where I might not think of you, and then weeks go by where I cannot stop thinking of you. Memories flash unexpectedly, tears or laughter gush. Sometimes both.
The beauty that it is, the lessons that it teaches, the faith it extends, the courage it gives to face the unknown.