…we miss you.
*painting by Julian Ranieri and the late Matt Miller
A year goes by, and then two…and yet I still think you might be there when we go home for a visit. Sometimes you come up in a conversation and I have to remember to use the proper tense, to say things like “used to” or “he was.” And when the little painful contraction in my heart lets up, I have to smile because whatever memory we are speaking of is sweet and/or funny and, well, it makes just about as much sense to be sad when we think of you as it does that you’re gone.
A year ago, on Facebook, I said this:
A year ago today, I still clung, with a rock in my stomach, to a little thread of hope…until I knew for sure I had to let go of it. We honor you this day and every day, Gavin Powell, and shine your spirit through our hearts. xoxo
Yeah, and we still do, just fyi.
His presence lingers ferociously. On his part it’s all good; for me, bittersweet. I’m not crippled anymore which is something he wouldn’t want. And I take pleasure knowing that others loved and still think of him too. When I forget that, loneliness comes knocking. Today was easier than last year.