It’s cold. There’s snow. It’s definitely winter.
Some are claiming - still - that this season has shown herself early.

But - as I arrive here….I’m reminded.
Of this same day and 30 years.
As it is now…it was then.

I’ll always remember.
My father.
His vision. His voice. His strength. His presence.
The big things…the little….what’s lost in between.

And - how years pass…seasons happen…life carries on.
Thirty years later.
I honor his spirit.
I hold it precious and dear.
Within.