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To Be Remembered, Laughing.

It’s her laugh that lingers with me now.
More like a chuckle, really, that bubbles out as if it has to; welling up and spilling over like some special secret that can’t be kept.
Like each of us. I want just one more chance to ask her what she knew.
It’s so strange that we hear her still, and we are the ones left searching for the words.
Perhaps that is the secret then, that time is only left for us, not them.
To love and be loved dearly.
To be so deeply missed.
What more can each one truly ask, then to be remembered, laughing…..

 

This poem was written by a family friend about my mother when she passed away. December 26, 2008 – the day my whole life changed.