And now it is 11 years. Life moves faster and faster and, as always, this day sneaks up on me. I couldn't even make it to the cemetery today due to work. But, though I do not truly know exactly what waits on the other side of the veil, the MOJ lives on, at least in my memory. When I read his writings or emails, I can still hear his voice. And from time to time, when I sit down to pen some Grimm lore, I can hear him laughing as we did in the elder times as we waited for the Beirut table to open. But after 11 years I sometimes feel like I'm running out of things to say in this conversation with myself. Do I miss you MOJ? Heck yeah I do. To this day I still feel like I can somehow will the past to be a bad dream, that I almost expect to see you standing there when I'm at your grave, chin out, greeting me with a "Hmmmmmm" to me as you always did. Sometimes it all seems like a lifetime ago but when I let my mind drift back, it feels like just yesterday that…