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It is hard to think of you as anything other than what you always were.

Beyond optimistic. Beyond Kind.

Mother isn't one to sit down and organize family photos. She's not big on photo albums. All our pictures of you are in a box. Your eyes were always bright.

I remember you once left a 40 dollar tip on a bill that wasn't much more. You said that you had a lot of respect for waitresses, that you didn't know how they made it doing what they did.

You were always like that.

Everything I remember about you is amazing. So amazing that I am left humbled by you. If I had been a better person, I would have called more. written more. visited more.

Your eyes are closed now. They have no more light.

It makes me wonder. I'm not sure where I stand on the whole "life after death" thing. But, I know that you were sure. You were strong. Faithful. Now that your eyes have faded and your breath has left you, will your smile follow? Or can I always count on you, being somewhere, shining somewhere.

It snowed three days ago. I'm sure that's what everyone else will remember about this winter. When the sun sets over the snow, and I watch it, like I always do, tell me you'll be there in the fading light. I promise I'll listen.

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