Dear Dan,

Today marks one year since we held your hand and said our goodbyes. It seems like yesterday we were laughing about life’s absurdities and giving thanks we were in it together. It also seems like it was a lifetime ago. Your death was different than Zane’s.  I was able to say goodbye to you.  I was able to tell you how much I loved you. I was able to make promises about life after you leave.

Your leaving has brought changes, big changes.   These past twelve months, I have watched your family struggle without you. I have done my best to be there for them, a vow I made to you.  The impact you had on us is clear. The love and attention we received from you is missing.

I remain steadfast that your name comes first. I have watched your bed side predictions come to life and have struggled to cope with the new realities. I hope you know that I try. You knew better. Perhaps your predictions were not that at all.  Perhaps they were perceptions; that you knew, standing on the doorstep of death, what was coming.  Your soft-spoken words were not a request of me but an assurance for me that you knew.  It would be ok. I am going to hold on to that. I like the notion that, from wherever you are, that you are smiling with an “I told you so”. You are with us, able to see our pain but cheering us on from the heavens to create a life that brings us each happiness.

We continue to celebrate you, mindful of putting into place things that will honor you. We have received ‘gifts’ from you; obvious ones like the closer relationship I now have with your sister. Not so obvious ones too, like your visits through the electrical power of my light turning on in the middle of the night. I thank you for all of these.

Perhaps year two we can be a little louder, a little bolder. Like you were.  I promise to continue to bring you with us. I promise to say your name. I promise that you will always be family. Death will not change that. And I wanted to thank you for the reminder that life will go on and that you are ok that it does. And therefore, we should be.

Look at you, Dan, continuing to teach from afar. Thank you. “I.O.U. big time”.