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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