Last night, I dreamt that Ed was still here. Well, more correctly, he was at home in San Francisco, and I was there visiting. I walked into the living room to see him piecing something together, and after looking more closely, I realized that he was creating mini dioramas of my life after he had passed away. It actually starts the month before he passed away, when Chris and I visited St. Louis, Missouri. There are little photos of us from St. Louis and the big arch. Then, it progresses to July 2013, the month he died, and there are photos of our family and me together. I see little 3D pieces he has built of things I’d done after that, such as Christmas trees in Germany to Niagara Falls in Canada, and the entire project was just so complex, complete, and intricate. He has a diorama for each month of my life since he passed.

Ed was really creative when he was young. I remember his drawing and sketching skills were amazing, and he used to be able to make very accurate models of things like houses and even toilets (it was for a school project). He just wasn’t encouraged enough. I was too young to think much of it then, but when he got older, I told him that he was always a good artist. As an adult, he’d lost interest in those activities. Of course, my parents don’t think being a good artist means anything or has any value in life, so I’m sure at some point that sentiment was communicated to him.

I wish his creativity didn’t die, that someone could have been there to cheer him on. But I know I will remember for him.