Thursday, January 3, 2008

Where I'm calling from

We lit your special candle.

After her bath, your daughter and I sang: "Happy Birthday, dear papa..."

We said, "Good night. We love you. We miss you."

She blew out the candle. You would be so proud of her, and so endlessly delighted by her.

It was much, much, much, much, much, much too little.



At 11:37 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm sorry too. I'm sure everyone who knew him is missing him in some way too. That seems like cold comfort. I wish I could say something, but like you said, it should be much, much, much more.

At 2:01 PM , Blogger Julia said...

It's hard not to cry reading this. I am sorry.


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