Cliff's birthday...

Selfie on the old couch Awe Cliff. We took this selfie before "selfies." Before we had power in this cabin you built by hand (with trees from this land cut on the old tractor-powered sawmill). The cabin I moved into over twenty years ago, afterwhich you said, "You doilied it up Honey" -not because I actually had a single doily in this cozy home but because I took down the giant elk head that hung low enough above the old plaid couch to bonk us on the head. I hung nude paintings by Freeman Butts of myself and Stacey Herries on the walls, cooked on a gas stove instead of a wood stove and kept up the place better than "mountain man clean."

Today would have been your 69th birthday.

I miss you more than I've words to express - tough to type through tears. You hated it when I cried but you were a constant caring witness for sob after sob, no matter what time of day or night, no matter the reason (or no reason). Your unconditional love and companionship made me a better person; and that's a damn dumb way to try to say what a gift you've been. I still don't know how to manage without you. I can't believe you are gone. I love you so much dear Cliffy. Happy Birthday.