The Decade

Dear Paul,

Clearly this is an amazing shot.  As a family shrinks, it also grows.  As the lower limbs of a tree disappear, new ones grow, and become entwined with the branches of other trees.

There are people missing here.  Some who had a call to duty, or work.  Some who left us after being here for so long.  And, one in particular who should be here with a crazy grin on his face marveling at his grandson.

We've grown Paul.  We've all continued down that path in your absence, and new people have joined this journey of ours.  They all hear about you, and wish they could have met you.  I know you would have wanted to meet each and every one of them too.  Especially though, your grandson, and grandnephew.

It's been an eventful ten years.  I'm thrilled with the accomplishments and revelations.  I just wish I could tell you in person.

Miss you.

The Last Straw

It's funny what you can be sentimental about.  A matchbook, a name-tag, a street-corner, or a plastic straw.

Paul loved drinking things with straws.  As he began his ordeal which eventually took him away from us, the straws became more of a necessity.  At some point when we were sharing the Jersey City apartment he asked in the dollar store nearby about buying a whole box of straws they had behind the counter.  I can't remember what he paid for it, but it was more straws than most people would ever need.  The box stayed in NJ when Paul left for good, and remained with me when I moved out.

Tonight I used the last one.  Appropriately on a low carb milkshake.  It's a strange feeling to be sentimental over such a trivial thing, but I found myself wondering if I should save it.  In the end, I decided that Paul would have wanted me to use it on something like this, and not try to save it.  I mean, it's just a straw, right?

Take care friends.  Save the memories.  Not the disposables.

Fifty Nine (and Eighty)

Life goes on.  New life arrives.

All of this moves forward, without you.

I can't, and won't ever know how big the smile on your face would have been upon seeing your grandson Jordan.

I can't, and won't ever know how proud you would have been to see me finish college (almost now), and smile to see my family grow too.



I can't, and won't ever know how you would have contributed to all of the successes and triumphs this family has seen lately, and how you may have supported us during the minor disasters, and our saddest moments.

I can't and won't ever know how sad you would have been to hear of the loss of the man who shared your birthday, and was a friend to all of us.




I can't

I won't

Happy Birthday Paul and Ed