Read about the Dillon Henry Foundation in the Spring Edition of The Drop – a publication the Surfrider Foundation.
It hit me today that next month will be 15 years since I’ve seen you, yet it feels like just yesterday you were here. I still see your smile in so many of my happiest moments, like the angel on my shoulder patting me on the back when I do something you’d be proud of. But also you’re there when I’m at my saddest, always there to pick me up and remind me of the love and beauty there is in this world. You always knew how to see the bright side of any situation and always found time to smell the flowers. I find myself wondering what you’d be doing right now and how this world today desperately could use a big helping of that compassion and optimism you shed on so many of us. I guess I just wanted to post here and say I love you and miss you. Your family is beautiful and continues to do so much good and keep your smile shining over so many people, you’d really be proud. I hope you’re up there having a great time.
You would have turned 32 on September 24th 2021 We gathered around Pali High with the twins new food truck and friends to talk about you and remember. My sadness and longing persists and some days the struggle is tremendous. It is only through your sister and efforts to improve the lives of others, that life has any clarity. Oh, what I would give to see your smile and feel one of your famous hugs…
30 years on Grief has dogged me For a long time From diagnosis to internment And on, and on. At first, grief was a snarling cur, curled lips deep bark, bared teeth, Full of warning and pain, Then the quick tenacious bite, And oozing tears. Later grief was a neurotic little lap dog nipping at my heels, Annoying me And wanted attention But too fearful to allow itself to be held and petted. Sometimes came the wolf eyed Guard dog, Suspicious and angry But practical, working for food and board, but wary. I needed to watch my hands. As I became accustomed, grief became a cute friendly cuddly pup, Quick to please, but confused when her bite punctured skin, drew blood, and my curse. Grief grew with me and now is sometimes like an old and sleepy companion dog, Belly up under the table. The two of us comfortable in each other presence. My sighs and breaths of regret doesn’t alarm the old dog, Nor wake her from her nap. Grief grows on me, I’d rather not have this companion, but I’ve gotten used to it. By: Dennis Gura
Family and friends came together to celebrate Dillon’s 31st birthday. Click to watch the video here.
As I was unable to post a video on Dillon’s birthday, I decided to write my favorite memory here… I loved that Dillon wanted to be at Rustic Canyon Co-op Nursery School each and every year to help out! He was a great worker, and he really enjoyed the kids and all of the fun that we had each and every day during the summer sessions. One of my favorite photos that I have found through the years is all of us roasting marshmallows around our “campfire” during Western Week at school. I have so much love for Dillon!
Dillon is always with me throughout the year. I see his smile in the sky on a clear day. I hear his gentle soul in the raindrops as they cleanse the earth. I feel his warmth in the sunshine as it envelopes my body. I rest easy at night thinking of his love. I miss his touch and humor more than I can express. Today, especially, I miss my nephew.
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