I live with absence every day. My son tells me a story and I hear tiny fragments of my brother, Jason, in the tale. He’s been gone so long that sometimes I have to focus on a memory just to recall his voice. A song will play on the radio that I recall singing along with on my dad’s knee as we rocked next to the behemoth wooden stereo that filled my childhood with so much music. He’s near in those moments…just not near enough.
