A couple weekends ago, Miss Maci Mae got to see what Grandpa sees. His sacred hunting grounds and his final resting place. The sun poked from the separating clouds just as we arrived at one of his spots. It was as if he wanted to give us a sure fire sign that he was indeed there with us. It was peaceful, it was sad, it was long overdue, it was natural and it was indescribable. It was more for me then Maci, but someday she'll understand and she'll know she has and always can visit him. I can always visit him. He's always with us. I can close my eyes and see him. His eyes are alive and he's smiling.