A LETTER

It's been a little while since I've seen you, but it feels like it's been forever because I know the distance is greater than it was before. Perhaps because even when I pretend otherwise, I know deep down I can't just come knocking on your door when I want to see your face.

I never dared to open my mouth and tell you how wonderful a person you are. How, in my eyes, you could hold the moon and the stars if you wanted. How I admired your way of living as if you were hiding angel wings behind you everywhere you went. I never told you how I feel because sometimes a feeling means so much more than a mere word can describe. Sometimes saying something out loud or even writing it down on paper strips the greatness out until all you have is a collection of words, poetic at best.

Right now my memory of you is so clear. From playing "makeup" with you in your bathroom and watching you rat your hair to death, to the walk to town and back in Avenal, and then the most recent giggling about memories and discussing whatever came up. My memories range from watching you as a child to truly enjoying a deeper relationship with you as an adult.

It's funny how something so simple as a smell or a song can become a treasure. Thank God for the smell of banana oatmeal and the taste of those goldfish crackers - the kind you made dance in the air while you taught me how to sing that song about the fishes and the dam.

I find myself wondering lately what you're up to. Are you busy being a guardian angel to some little boy or girl? Are you held up in meetings about when to let it rain, when to shine? Or do you have a moment to peek down on me once in a while? Can you see me here in this very moment writing about you? Do you ever smile when I accomplish something great? Hold my hand when I'm overcome with sadness? Do you have a moment here and there to paint my sunset or blow me a kiss? If I concentrated long enough, would I be able to feel you here around me? Can I believe you're still here with us, breathing... watching... moving...?

I wonder if you've yet been enlightened to all this world's mysteries. If you now know all the answers - about life and religion - about which one is real, or if it even matters. I wonder if you've met my children. Have you held them in your arms?

I'll choose to believe it's all true. That you can see us all, that you hug me back when my soul reaches out, that you can read these very words as I write them and feel the strength behind each one - the strength that would be there if they weren't just words.

You were something. You're still something. An inspiration. One that makes a difference in every single day.

cher·ish (chrsh) - To harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely.