I miss you

Although you've been gone over six years, dear friend, you are constantly in my heart and mind. I lied when I told you "It's okay to let go." Selfishly, I didn't want you to go, because I would be left alone.

The last time I saw you before that terrible day, we held each other's hand and spoke of happy times we had together. It was difficult for me to feel anything other than the shards of pain within my deepest being to watch you slip away from me much too soon.

I can still hear you spouting off one of your favorite expressions whenever I called you a banty rooster. Your bright black eyes would sparkle like newly polished diamonds as you pretended to be angry with me and said "I"m gonna slap you!" Every time I stand at my kitchen sink to wash a few dishes by hand I can hear you and me laughing like two teenagers at something completely silly and immature as we would clean up after sharing many meals together! We could spend all day working side by side in one of your husband's attempts at business and then go shopping together or sit together working on one of our various craft projects in the evenings - never running out of "stuff" to say to each other. We could never get it all said.

You never once strayed from your faith. It was as a result of you and the example you set with your life that I found faith for myself - how you celebrated for me!

We truly believed we sounded terrific when we sang together - nobody will ever convince me otherwise, either. We never emptied a room, though, did we? How proud of me you were when I enrolled in college, even though it meant not seeing each other as often as we both would have liked. Although you were very ill, you insisted on coming to my graduation. As a surprise for me, you had your son tape the entire ceremony and he gave me the tape a few months before you passed away. How I treasure that tape - I view it often just to see you smiling at me and hear you saying "I 'm proud of you, dear friend."

I hope I told you often enough how much you meant to me, Liz.