Earl died suddenly in the midst of winter. If he were alive today, he would be helping his daddy, Harold, start planting a garden, enjoying the daffodils and cherry blossoms and sitting outside with his grandchildren in the sun. But that was not meant to be for reasons we will never be able to fathom.

Last night, a late spring snow blew through the mountains he loved so much. It wilted all the daffodils. They look the way my soul feels right now.