This time of year... It always seems to catch me by surprise. His birthday, Father's Day, my birthday, the anniversary of his passing. Just when I think I have found a way to have peace without him in my life I am reminded that I am still grieving. It must be so deep and so in my subconscious that its clock remembers. I stopped counting the years because I don't think it matters; it doesnt change this new relationship I have with that new friend, Grief. The years past don't change the amount of missing. Time seems to make things easier to understand; makes me stronger and more capable of grieving without depression - I call it "Positive Grieving". It works. But this time of year things seem to revert just a bit and for some reason it always catches me off guard. This time of year reminds me that I still miss him with all my heart; that some wounds don't heal but instead become a part of a life story, of our life story. His story lives on and evolves in every part of him that lingers, in every part of what I do, of what my daughter does, of what Summer unexpectedly seems to remember.