Wearin' the Green

Another first, I guess. First St. Patrick day without you. If you were here I'd have to bully you into your camo green t-shirt, I think. Hailey would be calling wanting to make sure you were wearing your green.
Or maybe that's just in my head. We don't know what she would have done, what she would have brought home from school to share with you/us. Her first year of school you never got the chance to live through the seasons of.

Days like St. Patrick's aren't anything we ever really celebrated, or paid much more than lip service. But we were there, and we were aware. Although those days were no big deal for us together, they are a great gaping hole in my calendar.
Not the days, but the acknowledgement of them
Not the acknowledgement of the days, but the loss of sharing.
Nothing makes any day special like having someone to share it with.
Your own special someone.

This little guy, your grandson Michael,  had his second birthday yesterday. I acknowledged it for your sake.
Sad that his second birthday celebrates the fifth month anniversary of your departure.

And, just so you know, I miss hearing your lawn mower talk: that was the surest sign of Spring arriving.