Things we have muddled through without you: your birthday;
your funeral; space camp; head lice; Saints pre-season; the obligatory
Katrinaversary; Saints regular season; no Saints post-season; trading a bunch
of Saints; keeping Marques Colston (HOFSTRA, bitches); Darren Sharper; Mike
Smith being fired; Rob Ryan being kept; Cris freaking Collinsworth being the
announcer for the Saints/Cowboys game; Halloween and trick or treating; Krewe
of Boo (although none of us went); Bill Cosby; Thanksgiving; Genevieve; Christmas;
New Year's Eve; Twelfth Night; Joey's birthday; Stuart Smith dying; Beverly's
birthday; Krewe du Vieux; parades, parades, PARADES; and parades, always
parades; Al's death; Emmeline and Beau's birthdays; St. Patrick's Day and the
resultant PARADES; St. Joseph's night; Easter; French Quarter Fest; Darren
Sharper, again; Jazz Fest; Mother's Day; Trey's birthday; fourth grade; ISL
PARADE; your NOLAversary; Krissie's birthday; Obamacare affirmed; an engagement
in Houston; my birthday; gay marriage legalized. And crying. Lots of crying.
But also, laughter, and love, and Kara-ing on. And now, in a little over a
week, it will be your birthday again. Preceded just one day by the anniversary
of your death. And we will do it all over again. I miss you. I love you. It
will never be the same, but we still laugh and we still love. And I love an
amazing bunch of people, all of whom I met through you. Thank you.
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