Why would I miss you? You are in my every word, every action. Your blood flows through my veins. I quite literally carry half of you in me. One of the only two privileged people in the world to do so, in fact. Everything I am today somehow leads back to you. Those words of wisdom that you gave me always guide me--perhaps because you so rarely gave them and when you did, they were always so honest and something I could see you live by everyday. Moments of laughter, anger and so much else are saved in my mind, forever frozen, like a photograph, only much more real. The way you would shake your leg while reading the morning paper. The way you would just look out the window, lost in thoughts. The way you would muss the hair at the back of your head. The way you would give me your little finger back when I was small enough to reach up for it. The way you would demand I vacate your bed when you returned home from the office on sleepy Saturday afternoons.
So much of you lives on in me: your love for photography, your kadi jokes, your forgiving ways, your generosity! How can I ever have these without always having you with me? Is it any wonder that I often think you're just a phone call away? It's not so strange, then, that I still picture you as being "there", when I think of family and home. Yet, I still feel you here, with me. I believe you're here with me. Always. So why would I miss you?
Why do I miss you?
