Faith is a funny thing.
It's a hard thing.
Lately it seems like an impossible thing to have - especially when the world swirls with such hatred - how can we have faith? Faith in family. Faith in friends. Faith in country. Faith in people. Faith that good will always trump evil.
Faith that there's something bigger than us.
It's a funny thing.
You would've been 43 today.
And there's not a day that you're not on my mind. Not a day that I don't think that it doesn't seem real or fair. Not a day goes by when it doesn't all seem like a huge nightmare.
But, this is our new normal now.
This is the new hand we've been dealt.
And still, it doesn't seem fair. But it's renewed a sense of faith.
For even in death, you've taught me about life.
You've taught me heaven does exist.
I know it now, when your dog comes to sit on me, (a person who's afraid of dogs), and yet I'm struck with an overwhelming calm.
I know it now, when it's been blah weather all week, and today there's not a cloud in the sky. The sun is shining bright, and the water is waiting with open arms for your people to go fish. I know it sounds nuts, but I know that's you, smiling up from above. Giving everyone the gift of this memory of today, celebrating you.
And I know we'll always celebrate you, Rick. And I know you'll always be here.
Cause the things you've left behind are too precious to ever die - the love you had, and give continues to live on in the twinkles of our eyes and the warmths of our hugs. The love you had and continue to give will always be found within the folds of our smiles.
We miss you, brother.