A mile in the sky to the dearest slate sidewalk–my journey in the last two days.  How is it that the plane will bump and shudder as we move through the most ephemeral fluffy white misty clouds?  Like the wandering way of sadness in a clear blue sky of bright family and friends. 

I keep thinking dad is around here somewhere hiding.  Well, he is in that plain black box in the corner next to the ashes of his favorite pets.

We “gathered in gratitude”, told stories (“Jerryisms”), and even heard a new song written about him.  Laughing a bit too loud, tears rising up between greetings, feeling a bit out of time and space.

Bumping in the softest mist of hellos and goodbyes