There are still times when I can hear your voice vibrant and astonishingly young (belying decades and a head turned white) singing or laughing in a bass so bright a tenor well might envy all that ring. Yes, there are times when I can hear your voice beside me admonishing and teaching urging my flagging energy to fight. I find I smile, remembering.
At times when I'm inclined to take myself too seriously, perhaps - I hear your bold buffoonery - the way you laughed at anyone and most of all, yourself.
You always told us that we had a choice to laugh or cry, to give up or persist to fail or to succeed. You helped us make the choice.
There still are moments when I hear your voice.