On Saturday, I went to see the mother of someone I grew up with. A mother of three boys. I didn’t have her contact info when I bought my flight - just memories of her making snacks and asking us how school was. “Be there” was the only thought that flooded my mind. He was someone I loved very much. Someone who was sacred and breathtaking and wholesome in all the right ways. Someone who is not here anymore. Someone who made a wonderful life for himself, outside of the one we grew up having. Someone whose baby picture sat on a surface next to a basket of HIS baby’s toys. Someone who filled the room with light, whose absence now is darkness. We sat at the kitchen table - she and I - in the chairs WE used to sit in - he and I. We cried together. We laughed together. Blips of moments that felt the same, while everything was different. Heart breaking yet healing. Brutal yet beautiful. Her sharing stories and gratitude from her treasure box, and me sharing inside jokes and blessings from my collection. Celebration and honor. Denial and devotion. So, let this be your reminder - the presence in your touch, the air you leave with energy, the smile that graces your face, are donations that will outlive time. Some of us count them as our greatest gifts, and give them permanent placement in our hearts. They are, you are, the reason for an adoration that is immeasurable and irreplaceable. I hope you know that. I hope you feel that. May you be rested, cherished, seen, heard.