The sun is streaming through our windows. Our house has been stirring for the past hour. The kids are a buzz asking a flurry of questions, bright-eyed, unaware of what this day symbolizes for their father, and our family. They know, they've been told, but they will need to be reminded. Their innocence a blessing, lightening the heaviness that is in our hearts.
Nine years have passed.
Yesterday, Jeff said something that has stuck with me through the night. "There are times when it feels as though it happened just yesterday, but then I think about the fact that nine years have passed. I am not the man that I was nine years ago. I've had a zillion kids. That is the painful part." Yes, that is where our pain exists, in the reality that we are unable to share the beautiful moments we are experiencing in his absence. While rocking our newest addition, his second nephew, the tears came. Everett will never know the pleasure of hearing Uncle Brad's laughter, or witnessing the playful, witty banter that so effortlessly existed between his father and Uncle.
I look at the above picture and agree, my husband is not the man he was nine years ago. I ache for moments reflected in this picture, for the simple joy of watching them laugh together but know his influence is still upon my husband, and always will be.
Brad would be so proud of the man he has become.
Today we will gather as a family. There will be burgers on the grill, there will be stories shared, there will be the noises of his nieces and nephews, there will be tears and there will be laughter. We will remember, and we will continue to miss.
