Happy birthday.

You would have been eighty-four today. Can you believe it? For as long as I can remember, you've sworn you weren't a day over twenty-nine. 

I can relate to that. Part of me still has trouble believing I'm no longer a teenager. 

Last week I found the sweater you knit me years ago. I don't think I'd ever actually worn it in public. It's a perfectly good sweater, it's just that you'd given it to me when I was a teenager. Believe it or not but lopapeysa sweaters aren't quite considered fashionable amongst the teenage demographic - not to say I have ever actually been fashionable. But I found the sweater, there in the bottom of my deacon's bench. I picked it up and shook it out. Surprisingly, when I went to put it on, it fit. 

It's been ten years, but I still find pieces of you all around me. 

If there's an afterlife, I hope it has cake.