Does she know?

That you hum or sing a little in the morning when you wake up and feel good, just like your dad?

That you didn’t always wear boxer briefs?

That your name was Funcle Jim?

That Joe called you Little Brother?

That you always show up first when someone needs help (Ballard’s porch, Erdman’s tornado)?

That Kati came out to you first and wanted you to help her tell her mom?

That you handled Kati’s first period?

That Kati adores you … and worries about you, and needs you?

That there wasn’t a dry eye in the house during the daddy-daughter dance at Kati’s wedding?

That my dad loved you, with this “supervisor” lawn chair, truck-driving stories, and fighting over the check?

That you rototilled our 7 acres with a garden tractor?

That you eat tiger meat?

That you CAN polka?

That you draw these strange little characters with big noses and smiles on the corners of the paper when you doodle?

That you really don’t care what kind of pillow you use?

That you never get your back dry after taking a shower?

That you use the door frame to scratch your back?

That you love that soft spot where the inside of the thigh meets the curve of what sits just above?

That you love to fall asleep with a hand on your forehead like your mom used to do?

That Indians will get your toes if you hang them over the end of the bed?

That your friends (Gary, Judy, Jeff Larson) had a behind-the-scenes “calling team” where if they hadn’t heard from you in a while, they’d reach out to each other and start hammering your phone, trying to verify that you were alive.

That your mom cut the crusts off your bread?

That little Mitchell Brown gravitated toward you from Day One? 

That Mr. Froemming made school bearable for you after your mom died and came through for your dad’s funeral?

That your chest puffs up and you walk taller when you’re proud?

That there’s nothing better than the noise you make when you laugh from your gut, and you do this little ducking move?

That Charlie and Brenda love you?

That being proud of yourself is crucial?

That you think it’s dumb to have two sizes of forks and to eat soup with the bigger spoons?

That you aren’t really very good at making sure your guns are cleaned (up to Denny’s standards, anyway)?

That you have a money belt?

That the sign for Rice Kripsies is Three Boys Cereal?

That you are a pretty darn good gift buyer? (cars, computers, tablets)

That your dad wore overalls and Bee called them, “bibbers?”

That too many peaches give you gout?

That fireflies are at their most showy in July?

That Wally Govert knows how far apart pine trees should be planted?

That Cheddar was the name of a chicken?

That you sweat when you’re nervous?

That you get mad when you get caught in a lie?

That you loved showing off our home?

That you fit in anywhere you go and are the first one to join in?

That my mom thought the way you whipped your Little Giant ladder up and down was the coolest thing ever?

That Peter Dinker’s real name is Staskal and he loves you?

That both you and Rob Lund can recite “Smokey and the Bandit” verbatim?

That we took photos of our feet in every ocean and on every beach?

That you think amazingly quickly when faced with an emergency situation, like a car accident?

That you love Maple Nut Goodies?

That Kati and I are decent shingle throwers?

That you hate the word “idiot” because it reminds you of Jodi?

That I’ve never seen your upper lip?

That Amii kills everything but the grass?

That you look really, really good in blue because it makes your eyes smile?

That people call you all the time for directions to somewhere?

That you are really great at building a business?

That paddling intertubes seemingly upstream in mangroves is HARD!?

 That “Chinga tu madre” means “motherfucker” and downhill bike riders say it a lot? And sometimes shorten it to “Chinga le!”

That Tonka trucks make good equalizers?

That you sort of like pedicures?

That you aren’t a super confident swimmer?

That you love the Kwik Trip strawberry water?

That Kati gets John Deere tractors every year for Xmas?

That your dad always gave you a hug and said, “Love you, kid” when you left Missouri?

That your CB name was Junk Yard?

That you get a really far away look in your eyes when you’re troubled?

That you promised my mom that we weren’t getting divorced because you knew she’d worry that first Christmas you skipped church to be in Iowa?

That deaf girls are loud at sleepovers … and that Masha can eat a whole pound of bacon?

That you are creative and sort of artistic … case in point PE Xmas ornament party, paths mowed in the tall grass, and birch tree décor?

That you are pretty much content to eat a ham sandwich every day?

That you make great hashbrowns?

That you planted every damn pine tree on this place yourself?

That you call Charlene Govert and Judy Clossey “Ma?”

That you sometimes don’t tell the whole truth?

That you write great love notes? (I found a bunch when I was digging through stuff trying to make sense of this.) 

That your friends miss you?

That your daughter really misses you?

That your wife thought you were coming home?

That missing you is the hardest ting I have ever had to do? 

That you are loved here. Always and no matter what. Not a question.