When I was in retail, Wednesday through Black Friday were consistently the absolute worst. We had to stay insanely late on Wednesday to prepare, frequently not leaving until the early hours of Thanksgiving. I'd be dead tired through the holiday, then miss family time on Friday.

I want to add that today, I'm terrified of the world we're creating.

I want my Sam to grow up in a world where people care for others, feel compassion for the least of these, and give selflessly to others.

A world where people act like Sam did.

I'd give anything to hear his wisdom today.

Since I can't wish him a happy birthday, instead I hope that everyone has a Sam in their life. Having had a life not knowing a Sam, a life knowing a Sam, and a life that's lost a Sam, I can say definitively that the best life is the life knowing a Sam.

/repost

My Sam is named after him, in the hopes that if there's anything in a name, my Sam would be the same kind of person. And while I'm looking forward to Sam being old enough to learn about his namesake, I wish they'd had a chance to meet each other and discover it themselves.

November 5th is his birthday.

From this side of the grave, I wish to the heavens and back that I could wish Sam a happy birthday.

But I can't. So I remember, every day.

The memory that always gets me is this one. Less than a month before the cancer would eventually finish its course and he was feeling near/at his worst, he was still reaching out to others to check on them. That's just the kind of guy he was.

There's a lot of past tense in here, because nearly a decade ago, one of the most genuine people I've had the fortune to know passed away.

This individual never had anything he wasn't willing to share and give away. As a broke college student, he made a habit of making his own buffalo wings by the dozen, and bringing them to a bunch of other broke college students.

This individual was one of those rare specimens of humanity who was slow to speak, quick to listen, and genuinely interested in knowing you, your life, your joys and pains. When he asked about your day, he wanted the real answer.