And memories are coming back to me today, as I sit and write about you. There is so much I think about when I remember you; like how I've always hated it when my face was touched, but I remember your hands on my face, and how I didn’t pull away. I remember my hand in yours and how your fingers fit around mine. I remember your smile and the way your whole face lit up when you talked of flying and music and what it was like to have moments when the voices stopped and you could just be happy. We loved the quiet moments and missed them, the fewer they got.
I write about you twice a year. On your birthday and every year around this time, because it's Christmas time, and you loved mistletoe and kissing….and I sit as the memories come flooding back, and have to smile at what was. It’s only at these times when I think about all that was good that I am not sad about the time we missed out on, about all the memories that we didn’t have.
You wanted to fly, and you wanted to play music. I wanted to watch all your dreams come true. I wanted to be there when they came true for you.
I don’t like my face being touched, but I never minded it when you held my face in your hands… I’m remembering so much today, as I sit and write about you… you are some of my best memories…