"There's fire on this, Papa."
"Yeah. You're right."
"Well, it's a temple that's built every year so they can burn it."
"It's a ritual," I say, holding back the flood of emotions that photo always brings. "They build it, and people visit it. They pray, and think about people they love, and write messages to their friends and family that aren't with them anymore. Then they burn it in a beautiful ceremony with tens of thousands of people watching, and everyone says goodbye."
"Are you crying, Papa?"
"Why are you sad?"
"Because this picture is the day I said goodbye to my bestie."
"Because he died. Do you get sad when you can't see your bestie?"
"I'm sad because I want her here right now!"
::laughing:: "I know, sweetie. I'm sad because tomorrow is my bestie's birthday and I don't get to see him anymore."
There's a pause and I quietly weep, waiting for the next "Why?" Instead, she kisses me on the forehead.
"I'm sorry, Papa."
Happy Birthday, Matt. We miss you.