When RJ was little, he had a strong addiction to what The X and I referred to as blue juice. To everyone else in the world, it was Mountain Blast Gatorade.
No matter where we went, he wanted blue juice as his drink of choice. When we’d go on road trips, I always made sure the cooler was stocked with it. When he would spend the weekend with my parents, he’d drink it there. Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t all he would drink, but any time you asked him what he wanted to drink, his reply was always “Blue Juice”. McDonald’s had just started carrying it on their drink menu, so when The X or I would stop to satisfy a Big Mac or Filet-O-Fish craving, we’d get him his blue juice.
Today, JK took me to breakfast, and wouldn’t you know, the guy in front of me was drinking blue juice. It was the first time, in over five years, I’d thought about how much I miss the little things I never thought would matter.
All because of a simple drink.
I love you, RJ, and miss you so very much.