Today after work, I walked down to the waterfront and watched the sunset. I couldn't help but think of you, Pépère. I thought of the way you viewed the world with such innocent, tender eyes. The way you loved unapologetically and unforgettably. The way you looked so calm and peaceful in your final years, simply observing and being present. I wish I could have shared tonight with you.

The sky reminded me of the afternoon we spent together in York, Maine. The entire Lavertu family was there, and we were watching from the balcony all of your grandkids and kids run around. You were supposed to avoid the sun, so you sat next to me instead and told me about your 50th high school reunion that you organized. You were so proud of it-- so rejuvenated by your trip down memory lane and reconnecting with the individuals who once shaped your world so tremendously. We laughed as your told me about your teenage shenanigans and dreams. 

I asked you if this is how you thought things would turn out when you graduated high school. You smiled. "It's better. Everything is better than I could have imagined. The world is constantly changing. But that is what makes it the most beautiful. It's full of rhythm and energy."

I miss your rhythm everyday, but especially tonight. And even though I know and have accepted the fact that the song has changed without the option of rewind, I will never forget the poetry you gave me, and more importantly, the poetry you showed me that exists in everything.

You hold such a special place in my heart. I love you endlessly.