I miss you today. It's weird; every day I miss you, but every day it's for a different reason.
There is a LOT of new snow on the ground here. Like, Bluebird can't get her belly out of the snow and Angus disappears entirely if he gets off the path.
But the snow is too even. It's nice and clean and undisturbed. There are no snow angels. You always loved making snow angels. I can still see you out there, in your bibs and jacket, methodically working your way across the yard. Stop. Set. Drop over backwards, disappearing into the powdery white. Then emerge, laughing, with snow in your jacket and a perfect, beautiful snow angel as evidence that you were there.
There are no footprints. No forts. No tunnels where you and Will have been playing Ben 10 or Pokemon.
Every time one of the branches outside gives up its payload, I think of you, standing under your little tree back by the river, shaking it to knock the snow off and laughing when it all fell on your head. I went back there and shook off your tree this morning. I knew you would be worried about it.
It snowed the morning you left me. It was the first snow of the season and you were so happy about it. I wish with all my heart you were still here to enjoy it today.