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The best cloud shape I have ever seen was the face of my brother. And in truth, it was my son that saw him first; from the backseat of my truck, just a few weeks after he had died.

My brother was number one to everybody, including my kids. After he passed I was given the duty of calling EVERYONE in his cell- phone to tell them of his passing, so his young bereaved widow wouldn't be bothered in her time of mourning. I heard, through sobs, repeatedly how good a friend he had been, how he had to have come from "good people", and how badly he would be missed. I knew all these things, of course, but it was nice to get some outside agreement.

He was only 31, a proud husband and father to 5 small children. He had just gotten custody of his oldest child less than a year before that fateful day. She was just learning who her father was.

He was a traveling car salesman. You know the ones- the "$99 down, $99 a month, over five hundred cars to chose from" kind of resale circuses. He had been all over the country in the past few years and missed a great many family gatherings and important milestones in his children's' lives, to chase those elusive dollars.

He felt remorse for all he had missed, so he prepared a family Easter celebration, and practically forced everyone to show up. He berated those who didn't to no end... This was important, and had to be more important than whatever they were missing it for, by far! It was the first family gathering in nearly 10 years that myself and all four other siblings had showed. And the first that he had agreed to a photograph.

We posed and smiled, and less than ten days later he was gone. He'd had a brain aneurysm.

My mother was with him in his home before he was transported to the local hospital. She said he was looking at her like he'd never seen another living person. She asked him "Do you know who I am?" He screamed no, and that was the last word he ever said.

My children, along with the rest of us, were stunned to say the least. My baby had no idea, my middle two bawled and bawled, and my oldest never even stopped to brush away a tear. He simply said "you should all stop crying, he is in a better place."

On the way to my mothers' house for a visit, after a cloud burst, my son started screaming from the backseat of my Suburban "There he is! I see Uncle Bubba!" He almost made me wreck! I pulled over, and asked him where he saw Uncle Bubba, and he pointed to the sky. Lo and Behold- there was a perfect face in the clouds above and in front of us- the face of my brother!

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