This photo was taken during those same years in Hawaii but on the Big Island of Hawaii on one of the lava flows. Wherever we went, Leif was always going out as far as he could get, or as high as he could climb.
I don't write blog posts about him often any more, but I am thinking so much about him these days. In less than a month it will be eight years since he died. That anniversary coming is hitting me hard. Why it should be different than any other day since he died, I don't know, but I suppose it is in our nature to mark the passage of time, and it's so difficult to grasp, even now, that he's been gone that long. Even now, when I see a car like his, or someone on a motorcycle, my heart skips a beat, as though it just might be him. Even now, when I hear a song he liked, it brings tears to my eyes.
Even now, I can picture him climbing out onto the the rugged lava to sit and watch the sea.
This photo was taken in December 1985 when he was ten years old, but just one month shy of his eleventh birthday. It was a slide and I hadn't seen it until I scanned it, but I remember that day.