I remember you holding me in church with your black suit and my white dress.
I remember when you closed the car door too fast and gave me that scare I still have on my knee.
I remember dumping your case of beer down a hole in our porch because I wanted to help you so bad.
I remember your belt.
I remember you drank milk and orange juice, your favorite orange slice candy and that you liked caramel apples.
I remember you liked skipping rocks.
I remember climbing on the counter in yours and moms bathroom and finding needles above the vanity.
I remember waking up from a nap and finding a sherif on the porch talking to mom and that her head was leaning on a friends shoulder.
I remember wondering what was wrong.
I remember sneaking downstairs and finding my last letter from you in moms file cabinet and reading it over and over late at night.
I remember crying myself to sleep more than not.
I remember wondering what you’d say to me now if you had the chance.
I remember the stories that helped me piece together your life and death.
I remember the nick names they said you called me.
I remember visiting your grave and weeping over the stone that says “our love goes with you”.
I remember when that letter disappeared for 15 years and came back to me and how I wept over your words again as a grown woman.
I remember when a therapist told me you’re the only man I’ve ever emotionally connected with explaining why I always miss you so much.
I remember wondering if you’d be proud even through the mess I’ve made.
I remember wondering if you could have protected me.
I remember the first time I realized you’re with my little girl and how happy that made me. I hope you call her your princess too and know I named her after your mom who I also miss dearly.
I remember the first time I read a piece of poetry you wrote for your sister and how much I treasured those beautiful words.
I remember the first time I saw a video of you and heard your voice. how much I cried and cried and loved that you were telling mom
how much I loved dogs even as a baby.
I remember turning six and you being gone.
All my love,