We collect the moments, gather the hours, and fill our days, weeks, months — a year gone by. And another. The self help “helpers” guide us to the moment, to experience the present and revel in the beauty of being. I get that. And I do. Celebrate The Now. Frequently. Walking Scout I Gaze up and through an Indigo blue sky and wince at the slice of  brisk winter breeze finding an opening in the padded down of my new Barbour jacket. The exquisite sound of a soft flutter to my left and then another to my right — cardinals on either side of me… Bridget and Heather. Sometimes Jeff. Paying me a visit. The crunch beneath my feet, hardened dirt of the path Scout and I explore daily. A new season. Different texture, smells, light of the day and brilliance of a dark quarter moon night. Tears…rawness of life. A new achy feeling of letting ago. Again. Endless — this letting go and living with the pain of those we love moving on. Inevitable and yet so surreal. My parents — vital and Parental always.  In due time the “kids” will graduate from High school and college, have babies, make their unique beautiful marks on this world and my parents will die. A few years? A year? They are in their 80’s — This. Is. What. Happens. Yet, I can’t get my arms around it. And today, I don’t have to. photos (“real” and digital), journals, letters, cards…life’s stories and a trail of memorable years — to cherish. Happy Birthday Dad.