Love is forever…One woman’s journey with grief

I caught myself caressing your picture again today, the one taped to my monitor at work. And my fingers could almost feel the tanned, wrinkled back of your neck as we drove down the road and my hand would find you, or when we would kiss and I would pull you closer. They have their own memory of you, the softness of the fringe of hair at the nape of your neck that I loved to entwine my fingers in when we would dance. They have other memories too personal to write down here, too. I wonder if you remember like I do, in your new life. And I wonder if you ache to dance with me like I do for you. I kind of hope you’re beyond the ache; but I wouldn’t be too broken up to learn you missed me, too.