25 but not Adele

I remember last year, all-star weekend, your face lit up and wishes of being able to attend were all you had on your mind. In that moment, my brilliant birthday bank of ideas began to open and I vowed this year you’d be somewhere in the pews. Welp.

For you, I felt being 25 would grant you the push you needed – as if society threw a welcome party for becoming a true of age ‘man’. Now that you’re able to book the cheapest car rentals, I’m a tad bit jealous. However, I figured knowing you meant enough because anyone can be equally awesome by association. It meant I knew strength, hope, courage, wisdom, kindness, forgiveness, boldness, meekness, patience…and well, a whole list of other great things. You proved to me that even though you’re labelled as a fatherless child, you were never really without a father because his every feature clings to you without question; his blood pours through your veins. With just that, I’m in awe of you. To this day, I am still your biggest fan, just beyond sight in the back of the crowd.

These days I don’t know where you lay your head. Nor am I aware of your state of mind. But somehow, I know you’re surviving. Just as there are many ways to indirectly say I love you, there are also many ways to indirectly miss and wish you well.

HBD.

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