"However we may miss and mourn the dead, we really give little deference to death. 'Death,' a friend of mine said as he approached it himself, 'is a convention...not binding upon anyone but the keeprs of graveyard records.' The dead remain in thought as much alive as they ever were, and yet increased in stature and grown remarkably near. The older I have got and the better acquainted among the dead, the plainer it has become to me that I live in the company of immortals.

But now I have been here a fair amount of time, and slowly I have learned that my true home is not just this place but is also that company of immortals with whom I have lived here day by day. I live in this love, and I know something of the cost. Sometimes in the darkness of my own shadow I know that I could not see at all were it not for this old injury of love and grief, this little flickering lamp that I have watched beside for all these years."

-Wendell Berry

Wendell's got some good stuff to say, but I'm glad that the picture is even bigger and more solid than this. Andrew is not just alive in thought and love today, but alive in actuality as never before--perhaps more now than a year or two or three ago. Not just home with a vague sense of the company of loved ones, but Home, with glorious Love Himself, our All in All, as well as with all those others we have known and loved. A solid home, a solid joy beyond all measure.

Miss you, man. Coming soon.