REDII

Tonight the kids and I were all playing together on my bed. They were burying me in pillows and laughing hysterically as I burst out from under the pillows. I love how my children find such joy in interaction with me. It's not that we're doing fifteen thousand expensive things...it's the creative games where we all just rough house that they seem to adore.

You popped into the picture when my son sat still and was looking across the room at a picture. I know that everyone has always said he looks like you, but in this moment...it was like time stood still and you were looking across the room. Truth be told, my eyes welled up with tears. This launched all of the kids into a thousand questions about you and why I was crying.

I think death is a difficult concept for children. I suppose it's really a difficult concept for anyone. How do I describe you to this beautiful little boy that is your spitting image? I miss you so much. I wonder what traits of yours, aside from the physical he will have when he grows up. I wonder if he will struggle with any of your struggles. I wonder if he will love like you loved. I wonder if he will care about people as deeply as you did. I hope he doesn't struggle as much with communicating it though...

Your love was one of my most favorites. I understood you. I still remember the only conversation that I ever had where I was so hurt by you. I remember you saying so emotionally "What choice do I have? It's you or him. Who do I choose?" I remember in that moment being so hurt for you. I remember telling you that I would never abandon you no matter what. I remember telling you I would love you always and I wouldn't go away. I also remember telling you that it was a sucky choice that you made, but that I understood. For some reason that conversation popped into my head today.

Your death was one that I grieved so heavily. For days I couldn't sleep. I just kept hearing your voice calling my name over and over again in a haunting tone. It was almost like your ghost, or your spirit, was begging me for something. My spirit was begging you to just believe. I would've given anything for you to believe.

I have no monument to remember you by. I have no place to go to in order to feel your presence...except the red chairs. They don't smell like you anymore. Somehow that has gotten lost over the past year. Your smell has become mine...your chairs have become mine...I still remember the last time I saw you sitting in  that chair...you had those dark pants on with those white socks. It was Christmas. Our dad and us were all there. I know how beautiful that moment was for you. I know it was a dream of yours being fulfilled. I was happy to see it done for you. I was happy to be a part of that image in your heart.

I miss calling you. I miss talking to you about life, love, the Army, and war. I miss the connection that we shared. I miss your encouragement. I miss it terribly. It was always so difficult for you to show your emotions...and the times you did are forever tattooed on my spirit.

I love you Grandpa. I am so thankful that you always knew that. I am thankful that you never questioned it. I am thankful that we were close...I am thankful that I showed you my vulnerabilities, and that I was blessed to see yours. I am thankful for the laughs, for the advice, for the disagreements, for the stories, for your friendship. I am thankful that I have a piece of you walking around in front of me every day...I am thankful that my son looks just like you.