Remembering

Ryan: "I wasn't expecting it, so it sucker-punched me."
Me: "That's kind of how it always happens these days, isn't it?"
Ryan: "Yep. You go on being fine, and then something hits that brings it all up to the front again."

And that's how it goes. It's reading a quote or seeing an old friend. It's hearing old familiar music or an unexpectedly moving comic strip. Or it's hearing that your best friend's grandpa died. Or it's an old photo.

The other week it was chatting with a couple in my new church congregation that knew my family years ago. It was him saying that he loved my dad.

Or the other night when I watched Arthur Christmas with John, and there is the part in the movie when Arthur runs down the stairs when he sees his dad and wraps his arms around his neck and says "Santa! You came!"

Today it was that conversation with my big brother and some quotes from a great thread on Reddit.

But it's always the same, no matter how old you are, no matter who you lost, if it was six years ago or a day - dad, grandpa, brother, sister, or whomever - and all of the sudden you feel like the 15-year-old vulnerable version of yourself (or whatever the case may be).

It's remembering.

~

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I did not die.