The first of November has become a day of reflection and tradition over the past 7 years since losing my father. For the first time in seven years it occurred to me that there is something poetic to this anniversary falling on All Saints Day, a day reserved specifically for reflecting on the people we have lost.
The tradition I observe on this day is a reflection of the fact that whenever Dad was in town he would take me somewhere to have brunch and catch up. These conversations covered every thing and any thing that caught our attention, sometimes they were deep life altering chats, and others we would catch up on Television shows and sports. This morning I took some time mid morning to go to a nearby diner and enjoy a few mugs of diner coffee and an obscene arrangement of bacon, eggs, home fries, and hollandaise sauce.
As I sat down to write this post today I took a moment to look through my On This Day page to remember my past reflections and remembrances. This year I was immediately struck by a post I made first thing in the morning on 1 November 2012

the storm never stops the sun
I wrote these words just a few hours before I would lose my father and in all the ensuing chaos and change I completely forgot about them.
Losing Dad isn’t something that has gotten easier or faded, but these six words are an amazing summary of how the last seven years.