But you’re not here.
Dad’s been cooking all day, not that you’d be surprised.
You loved Christmas and we loved you.
We’re calling everyone, and all they can say is how much they miss you, and how much you loved Christmas.
We love you, we miss you, holidays without you won’t be the same but they’ll be holidays nonetheless.
Dad just yelled, he’s made fresh oj. Did he always do this? I don’t think so. Its funny what becomes tradition and when.
He’s made checklist after checklist these last few months. You’d be proud.
He’s going to see snow tomorrow, and your family, and maybe your headstone.
But you’re not there. You’re here with us, and with your family up North, and where ever else you want to be.
Dad and Stephen are laughing at the TV. Their laughter drys my eyes and gives me hope.
And while we’re on the subject, even though his heartfelt prayers meander, he’s going to divinity school next year for a Masters. I’m sure you had nothing to do with that right?
Right.
Because after all its the holidays, and it smells like bacon, and tastes like oj, and the sun is shining here in muggy FL, and though you’re gone, you’re with us. You had nothing to do with that either right?
Right.
