Memories . . .

I never cry, but here I am;

Sitting . . .
Surprised . . .
tears filling my eyes,
threatening to spill down my cheeks.

Why?

A small crop-duster plane just flew by outside my window. 

That's weird, you say!
Why would an airplane cause someone to cry?

In grief and loss, we never know when something -
     a sound
     a smell
     a picture
     or anything - will trigger a memory. 

It just suddenly overwhelms and engulfs us with deep sadness,

unannounced,

unpredictably,
rudely
with no warning. 

And  - I was immediately overwhelmed with a deep sadness,

. . . . then all these memories started to flow over me. 

LOTS of bittersweet memories.

Bitter, because he died.
Sweet, because he lived.