Nothing good happens in isolation. Only bad and terrible things are born there.

You’re not here, but it’s still your birthday. You died 18 months ago and went to a place that lies beyond my view. But thankfully, the essence of you remains and the memory of you colors every aspect of my life.

You came home today, but not in the way I wanted or remembered. You passed from this life into the next, and I went to the doctor’s office to pick up your ashes — what’s left of what I love to hold, smell, lay next to and be around.

You left today and went to that place I do not yet know. You took with you the sunshine and my smile.

You went missing nine years ago today, and every moment since, we have been praying you would find your back into our arms, the place where you belong.