One of my favorite things
to be told, ever,
as in one of the best compliments people could ever give me, in the entire spectrum of compliments ever given,
is that they think of me whenever they hear or see trains.
I have my reasons for this, and there are some of you who know how deep my love of trains is, or far more importantly, why it exists in the first place.
I have my own person that I think of when I hear trains and he has been gone now for 9 years this month. I think of him every time I hear a lonesome whistle, every time I hear thunder on the tracks, every time, every time. And I know that he is somewhere in the ether hanging those long, long legs off a train bridge watching the world go by sending out a whistle or two from the distance whenever he knows I need it most.