waiting

Sorting through picture files last night, I seemed to come upon my father at every turn. My heart winced with pain at the sight of his gentle smile. For some reason, grief has a way of compounding itself and missing my father lead to missing my brother. They both had July birthdays so that may be part of it, but I think the bigger reason is that I miss their advice and gentle humour. The crossroads of life tend to make us stop and turn to our companions on the journey. My Dad and brother are at the end of the road waiting. There is comfort in that.