A year ago today, my grandfather died. We say passed away, because it’s softer. It sounds less severe. But that’s what we mean.

There are days I almost forget. There are days I can barely recall his voice as anything but a memory.

I still ache. Of course I do. But I’m happy

Happy as a wood, swaying in the breeze,
Happy as a stream running its course,
Happy as a lake on a sunny day.
I’m happy, I promise.