Though incapable of remembering anyone else’s death date, I do my father’s. He’s been gone a year today.
There’s not been one day since that my thoughts haven’t turned to him. In pain, fear, joy… just wanting to share or get his opinion. This is remarkable since we only had three years together and only met once in person. And I didn’t even take his picture! (which still surprises and amuses)
But he’s my Dad and I love him dearly.
I miss you very much, Dad.
The important people in our lives remain with us always.
Promise?
As long as we remember, they’re with us. (I like to think they’re with us even when we *don’t* remember, too.