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It was another day of mourning. It seems there is always one last detail to deal with and accept concerning the loss of him. Today, it was my daughter, who I had not told, wanting to spare her the hurt for as long as possible. Today, it could not be avoided. She was concerned because he had not written her...items he had promised her had not arrived…he had disappeared from my conversation…she knew something was wrong. Her tears were as pained as my own when I revealed the details of his passing. When they subsided, we talked about who he was to each of us…how special he made us feel…what he wanted and expected from both of us…and the overwhelming tragedies of life.

Today reminded me of exactly what kind of man he was. Caring, loving, concerned…a devoted friend and counselor to the lucky few…and immensely important to those he loved, and who loved him in return. He was complicated and stubborn, sometimes cruelly honest, other times blissfully dishonest…but always with the intention to do good and to care for those close to him. He was family. He will always be loved.
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