Papa

I love you.

Remembering tonight what the days were like a year ago at this time, this season of Thanksgiving. It holds so much more hope and grace even now.

Tonight I danced with Eliana, and thought of you. I knew, were you here, that you would join us in a heartbeat. A heartbeat. I wish I lived close enough to lay my head on your chest and listen to the thump-thump...thump-thump... of your strong heart. I send love across the miles.

And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O my onely light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all night.

These are thy wonders, Lord of love,
To make us see we are but flowers that glide:
Which when we once can finde and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us, where to bide.
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
-George Herbert, excerpt from The Flower

t.d.
Breathing
All is Well