his birthday is on the 24th and im thinking of riding down to the outerbanks to visit him at his favorite fishing pier. the place he said he loved most in all the world and where we spread his ashes. he's always there casting and reeling with my sisters on that perfect day where they caught over a dozen a piece. at night we're underneath the pier with flashlights and buckets catching crabs then releasing them all at once. he's in the waves laughing at something that struck him particularly humorous and in the sand carelessly napping with a slight grin.

