On the first warm day, in the middle of a cold winter, I think of Bill. My friend who passed away, tragically at way too young of an age.
I look for signs that the plants he gave me are going to come back this year. I think about how he would be getting his seeds and bulbs together to plant. Just like I do. And I think of how we shared the same excitement for spring time. Maybe because spring gave us hope. Brought change. Or maybe because it was a new start.
As I clean my garden beds, I look at the shiny, blue gazing ball he gave me and wonder why he isn't here. Why a man was taken from his life, so young. And I always cry.
But then I laugh. Thinking about him dancing to no music. Thinking about him talking about food as if it was a romance. And I think about our competion to see who could spend the most each year(we were silly). And I again I laugh.
I'll never understand his death. I carry it with me, wherever I go. It changed my outlook on life. My outlook of friendship. And the value of a brief moment called life.