Happy 63rd Birthday, Mr. Moylan.
Although you are not here to celebrate; although you are not here to receive the card I wanted to send you; you are not here to see the release of my memoir, My Disability Doesn’t Define Me, in which you were gracious enough to write a chapter; I know that you are smiling down on me from above. Much like I felt when I walked across the stage on May 12, 2018, to receive my associate degree.
- You were the one who started my college career with me at Hudson Valley back in the fall of 2014;
- You were the one who helped me dance to the beat of the music;
- You were the one who saw me through to graduation.
You even helped me after graduation; checking in on me from time to time. We talked a lot, and I’m grateful for those conversations. I’m grateful we got to stay in touch after. I’m grateful and blessed that we stayed connected.
As you may know, I went to your wake. I met your wife and daughter for the first time. I met your sister and we spoke about a lot of different things that pertained to you. There were so many people who came. The vast attendance is a testament to how loved you were; how loved you are.
You have been on my mind a lot since you crossed into Spirit. I know that you wouldn’t want me to feel sad that you are gone as you are still with me, but the fact that I cannot just message you on Facebook or see your updates about the music world tugs at my heartstrings.
I wrote a poem for you that I’ve been nervous to share with the world, but I wanted to give it to you…
We met back in 2008
We met back in 2008
when I was a scared sixth-grade student.
We had many wonderful adventures over the years
from B.O.C.E.S. to earning my first “A” in a collegiate setting.
You helped me dance to the beat of the music;
you helped me gain a new appreciation for the wonderful language
that speaks to us all.
Ten years
that is the number of years that you blessed my life.
We made many wonderful memories
in that all so short time;
memories that I will carry with me for years to come.
April 13, 2018, changed my life forever.
that was the day that you were taken from me;
that you were taken from all who loved you.
We are left to navigate the rest of our lives without you,
but we know that you are with us always.
When the wind blows, you are walking past us.
When the rains pour from the heavens,
you are letting us know how much you miss us.
But, if we are lucky, that rain turns into a beautiful array of colors in the sky,
letting us know that, even after a sad time, things will get better;
you will always be with us.
As we will always be with you.
As I finished typing that last line of the poem into this blog post, just as the day I first wrote it, the tears are again flowing, so I apologize if there are any mistakes in the remainder of this post (but, as you very well know, I will go back and fix them—as the perfectionist I am).
You helped me to become the man I am today. Although we were only able to share a short time together, I’m grateful for each moment that we did have.
I think of you often
I think of you often.
I talk out loud to you, hoping that you can hear me…I think of you often.
Hoping that you are proud of me; proud of how far I’ve come since you passed.I think of you often.
Hoping you are strumming up there with God.I think of you often.
But I cannot help but with that you were here with me.I think of you often.
Hoping there is one day when my missing you ceases;and I can hug you once again.
I love you, Mr. Moylan. I hope you’re having a good time up there.