The other day I found out that I’d gotten an endorsement for “The Gift Giver” that was so wildly out of reach that it rocked my foundation to the core. My body shook as I read the email confirming the words.

Later that night I was at a friend’s house. We had been talking about how amazing it was that people were responding to the book in such a positive outpouring.

I went in the kitchen to get a glass of water and it was dark. As I stood at the counter filling the glass I had an overwhelming sense that Mark should have been there that day to experience the jubilation and excitement. The book was about him after all. I felt guilty that I hadn’t really thought much about him. My stomach tightened.

Then in an instant, he was there.

“Can you believe this day?”
“I’m so sad you weren’t here to experience it.”
I heard gentle laughter.
“Oh! You were!”
“Of course. I don’t miss things like that.”

Tears streamed out of my eyes and dripped off my chin. Of course he didn’t miss things like that. Of anything I should know, it should be that. Every time I’d ever been proud of the boys and checked to see if he’d witnessed it I’d heard a resounding ‘yes!’
Why did I think it was any different with me?

“I’m so glad you were here.”
“Me too. And now, I’m going to go…”

I love you Mark.

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