I miss you too much to write of you yet. I need your love and your wisdom and your
heart and your long tight hugs. I need
them every day and I just miss you so much.
I need you here, now, not to be writing of you here, now. But I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the
life you lived. For the parts of it that
you shared with me and with my children.
As far back as my memories go, you are there, too. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I am
so grateful. It’s just so impossibly
hard and so unbelievably unfair that you are gone. And missed by so many.
You know who you are.
And I am sorry, but I cannot bear to write of you yet…
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