15 Years
And so, 15 years have passed. I can remember looking at Collin's age 15 years ago and not thinking it was old but that it also wasn't young. Needless to say I don't feel that way now. Thirty four years old... Shame is the only word for it. The well of stories and words of melancholy has pretty much run dry for me. It's not that I don't miss him. I very much do. We all do. We still gathered in his name once again this year and his absence in our gathering is still keenly felt. But at this point, we're starting to get close to the time where he's been gone, at least from my life, almost as long as he was in it. And while I'm not exactly old, I'm old enough that age is starting to rob some of my memories of the times we spent together. Some of the memories are vivid but most of them have already been told here, some more than once. But I don't mind going over the same old stories over and over in my head. To me, ...