~

It was just over a year ago. I miss him like crazy. It hurts in a way only God knows.

I can still hear the twelve most important words he ever said to me. Twelve words an older man said to a little girl trying to poke her hand into the cookie jar without tripping the sensor. Twelve words that would change the way that little girl saw the world. "You know enough to be dangerous, Kiddo. Use that knowledge for good."

Below I'm putting a post I wrote on Xanga a while ago. Thought you might like to read it.

There's a tear in your eye, And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile, Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.
Chorus:
When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.

For your smile is a part Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song, Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.

I have decided I must be Irish. Maybe I got it from Uncle Fred. :) I can smile if I need to, but it's a fake smile. I just recently realized what exactly makes a real smile for me. When I really smile from the bottom of my heart, I smile with my eyes. Cameras cannot capture the difference unless it's a closeup. If it's not a closeup you can't see my eyes to tell if I'm really smiling or not (evidenced by our Christmas '08 picture. It looks like I'm smiling, but I really wasn't). My true smile is in my eyes, not my mouth. Therefore I must be Irish somehow. :) Uncle Fred was everything Irish. He adopted them into his heritage. He's the person that first played that song for me. I remember it. He had just gotten a leprechaun that sang that song.

When I was younger, I had a fascination with Irish dancing. I still really like it, but I'm not so crazy about it. :) I called Uncle Fred and asked him if he would teach me to Irish dance (in my little kid's mind, if you loved a country, you knew how to dance their way). He said he'd teach me how to talk like an Irishman, but he'd have to think about teaching me to dance. Maybe next time I came up he would.

The next time I went up to their house, Uncle Fred wasn't there. And he wasn't ever coming back. But I have requested something extra special of God. And I don't see any Biblical reason why He wouldn't grant my wish. We'll just have to see. But I have requested that my first dance in heaven be an Irish dance with Uncle Fred. And until then, I'll try to keep my Irish eyes smiling.