It's June--

The sun is high and the beach is quiet except for the occassional wave hitting the shore. Bird fly overhead  and I feel somewhat okay.

I watch my daughter clumsily run across the sand, falling over and I giggle to myself a little.

 I imagine Jinki running up to her and picking her up in the air, twirling around as he laughed and fell over, too.  They'd sit and make sand castles, and she would be her daddy's little girl.

I slowly come back to earth and gingerly open my eyes.

"Mommy?" A sweet tinkling voice rings out.

"Oh!" I put a hand to my chest. "Yaaahhh! You scared me." I laugh and tickle her sides.

She giggles and plops down into my lap and looks up at me; "Mommy..? Were you thinking about Daddy again?" She puts a hand to my face as a tear makes its way down my cheek.

"Mhm.. You know," I look down at her and put my forehead to hers, "your daddy would be so proud to see you here, running around.  He would be so happy to see you smile and laugh.." 

She gasps a little. "you.. you think so?" she say in a tiny voice.

I meet her gaze and nod.  we are both quiet for a few minutes as we both mourn..

"..Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can you.. what was daddy like?" she looks down.

My daughter is almost 6 years old; and her question takes me back to the days before she was born.

I smile and wipe my cheeks.  "you've finally asked."  She looks at me seriously and waits for me to continue.

"Well, uh, let's see.." I tap her nose.  She sits in my lap and plays with the ring on my left hand that I've refused to part with. 

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I'm sitting next to her, watching and listening to my wife and watching my beautiful baby girl. 

I wish they could see me.  I wish I could hug her and twirl her around in the air.  I wish I could touch my wife's hand.  I wish they could hear me.

"..what was daddy like?" a sweet little voice asks my wife and her mother.  I watch my wife wife smile and wipe her cheeks.  

I listen to her explain our life's story together and I can feel my eyes start to tear.  I know it's silly, a spirit, crying, but I am.  She's still wearing her wedding ring.  I look down at my hand and see the matching ring hugging my finger. 

The first day we met comes back to me as I hear ~~~~~ explain it to our daughter for the first time and all I do is sit there and go back with her to the times when I was still living.