Quiet

Six years. Without you.

This morning I went to celebrate you in the farmer's market, a favorite of ours. Olga brought her daughter and niece to help her. She was in the back of the stand when I arrived. I said hi and we started chatting. Then I told her what day it was. She gave me a big hug and I started to cry. I thanked her for her love all these years. She kept putting cherries in baskets while wiping her tears. Then she said, "How much it hurts not to see the ones we love..." I said, "yes." Today was father's day--not easy for her either. She lost her mom almost four years ago. She would be missed when she went to see her dad in the afternoon.

She said, "When I look at your picture, I can see it as if it were now. You would stop the stroller and started picking fruit, while he crouched down to be at Nen's height." She had never mentioned it, but she's so right, I can perfectly picture you that way, tending to Nen, talking to him, entertaining him, giving him your all, as always.

That is the image that will stay with me today, on the sixth anniversary of your loss. As I write this lines, I hear in the background the notes of a guitar that made your delight during the last months of your life. And I can hear you...