I’m writing this at the end of what would have been your 62nd birthday.
You would have passed a good time today.
You probably would have gravitated to the music. Found that band that was playing at that place. “Won’t you join us?” Then dance and smile, never letting on it was your birthday.
Your sweetheart sprinkled a little of you on the stones of peace tonight.
I couldn’t be there, but I was.
Walking up the hill from the water hollow to celebrate dad’s birthday a couple days early, I stopped cold. I felt you in the September sky.
You were on the farm with us some five or six years ago for the September birthdays. Seafood, cake, and toy helicopters to fly towards the sky.
We miss you, Skip. You were one of the easiest humans to be around.
We remember you. Yet, more than memories of what was, I’m amazed at the love and care you’ve left in your wake, lifting the loves of your life even today.
Thanks for showing us how to pluck the strawberry as we fall, for dancing even on dark days, and for squeezing the sweet out of the most bitter fruit.
Thanks for lingering in our hearts and reminding us of music, smiles, and fun. Oh! And costumes. You still burn bright in our lives.
PS: I let my daughter wax my hair blue tonight. Thought of your blue beard.
© Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2018