Sometimes it hits without warning

 

It's been almost 17 years. In two days. Life goes on, and while we talk about Leif every day, and memories are always with us, grief and tears hide behind the closed door most of the time. But we never know what will open it. It's usually a surprise. 

Like today, while we were listening to the audiobook of Isaacson's biography of Elon Musk, and they were making a robot they called Optimus Prime, after a toy robot/truck, I started crying. No warning. Just the sudden memory of a little boy who loved that toy long ago when we lived in Japan. How much he played with it, and all the other fantastic shape-changing robot toys the boys had. 

I miss that little boy. I miss the man. We have so many photos of him, but none that I can find that show him with the robots or Optimus. Maybe there's one that hasn't been scanned yet. But not for today. 

So, instead here's a photo of him in Atami, Japan among the blooming plum trees, February 1981. He had just celebrated his sixth birthday. What he has in his mouth is a handmade bird whistle. We were on a family day trip. He needed a haircut, as my boys often did. I cut their hair, and they resisted getting it cut, whether I did it or not. It was funny, later, when they saw photos as adults and remarked on why I "let" that happen 

Ah, Leif, we miss you so!