I have many friends I have never met in person. I have met them through speaking and writing and they are as dear to me as those I have coffee with on a regular basis. One such friend is Susan. Susan is a photographer, a real estate agent, and a really cool NYC diva. She shoots these great, well planned photo series and shows in galleries all over. She has an idea for a series and wants me to come to NY for a photo shoot which I’m really excited about. Susan also happens to be a widow.

I first heard from her the day the New York Times article came out. She had gone to yoga that morning and during her practice she had a vision for this project. She came back to her apartment, fixed her coffee, and sat down with the Times. She noticed my article right away and read it. And, she suddenly felt compelled to contact me. She found Marshmallow Ranch and sent me a private message. We ended up chatting for a couple of hours that day and really hit it off.

Yesterday, I went down to a local historic hotel for coffee and the paper before church. As I was sitting there, I noticed Susan was online so I sent her a message to catch up. Mr. Virgo came up in the conversation and she asked me several questions about him. Finally, I told her I wanted to thank her for asking about him. It’s been over three and a half years now since he died and people just don’t ask about him. No one says, “Hey…tell me that story again about the time_______”. It makes me sad. It makes me feel like he’s invisible, fading from my view. Fading from the view, and memories, of others. I love it when people ask me questions about him. It brings him to the front for a while so we can revel in the memories.

I don’t want him to live in the front all the time any more. But it’s awfully nice to visit him once in awhile in the company of another. It reminds me he may be gone, but he’s not forgotten.

❤️

“I thank my God every time I remember you.”

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬