One of my most vivid remembrances was the last time I stayed with you before you moved on. We had gotten you to bed and eventually turned in ourselves. As I laid in the living room, I stared at the ceiling and starting bawling. My mom and I talked and happened upon the picture you cross stitched that hung above your kitchen table. I always admired the art and what it stood for, and made sure you knew it.

My mom suggested I look at the back, and sure enough, there it was:

I couldn't believe it. I cried that much harder.
As I cried, my throat tightened up, a burning sensation welling in the back of it. I learned the next day that the awful feeling wasn't at all from the crying; it was tonsillitis. I don't think I have had a sore throat that bad again... until today. Is this you talking to me? Letting me know you're here? Because I could think of way better fashions for you to do it. However, this is one that would not be missed.
You are loved and missed, always.


