Friday, March 21, 2014

because it's March 21st


thinking of Rob, who today would have been 42.
I would love to do his favorite thing and go for a run on the trail today, but my messed up ankle and knee are keeping me indoors.  
     We'll have a Mt. Dew, some dark chocolate, and perhaps try to grill out, though.  Maybe watch some Star Wars or old Godzilla movies.  
   For Rob, go for a run, drink a Mt. Dew, grill some meat, spend time with your family, remember your faith, wear something purple, and break out your converse.  These simple things were all Rob needed, and he was at his happiest in his recliner, with his dog on his lap, and a beer in his hand.  He never needed the grand gesture and wasn't big on making them, but we KNEW how very much he loved us.  I thank God every day that my kids, that I, know how well loved we were.  
     How I wish I could hear your voice, smell your skin.  I close my eyes and I can picture you - young, skinny, long-haired - coming to pick me up from work when we were 19.  When I am out on the trail I can hear your footfalls beside me - healthy, fit - training for your next run.  And I can't help but remember your frail, ravaged body struggling in the hospital bed.  
It's everyday.
For me, it's every day.
How very, very loved you are.  
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