It hurts my heart no less to think about, but it is further away. Is it weird to miss the combination smell of coffee, cigarettes, fart and feet? I don't know, but that scent is the scent of my childhood. Well, that and garlic.
This is a beautiful poem my lovely aunt Maria wrote last year.
Bob brought us together like family
His love was the glue of community
His life was a model, an example for all
Family, friends, skiing and volleyball
He shared so many fabulous meals
He opened our hearts and led us to feel
He was always himself, many a quirk
Whether sitting in church or sharing some work
He knew how to do things the best possible way
Work projects always felt more like play
To be part of his clan, to be his friend,
Means a sense of connection that never will end
He brought us so much, he had so much to give
Knowing him meant that we more fully lived
His living made our lives more about joy
We are so grateful for our time with our Bobbie boy
4 Enlightened thoughts:
I was thinking - just now - of the time Bob taught me how to chop garlic. I really loved cooking with him.
What a loving tribute of a special person. My dad has been gone over 20 years and I still think about him daily. Namaste.
meg, he needed to be sure you knew the right way.
sean, i learned so much from my father but most importantly to be a good person. i think about him everyday and many times a day. and that's a good thing. thanks.
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