Uncle Danny

We got out of the truck and started walking toward the church. We were in the Catholic Church parking lot but heading up to the Episcopaleon church across the street. I looked up and saw a row of probably 2 dozen people, mostly men, in long black robes, faces down away from the wind, walking through the cold to the church. They came from the front door of the courthouse and silently walked the half a block in single file to the church door. They looked like monks, all solemn and dignified in their judicial robes, and it made me cry.

We left the church to find that it had begun to snow. Big fat snowflakes that swirled in the air before landing on every branch and power line in town. And reflected off all those giant snowflakes were colored lights. Red and blue flashing lights from squad cars representing every city in the country, the county, and the state, bouncing off buildings and clouds, softened by the swirling snow, and it made me cry again.

I love you and I miss you, Danny. And so do a lot of other people.