As the darkness comes each day I miss you even more.
I gaze upon space, the space where once you were,
I move toward you, then stop and remember.
Just then the well of emptiness, capaciously, yawns.
I climb the stairs each night and as I reach midway up,
I pause on the seventh step, look down into the darkness
and hide my tears in silence for no one can understand,
why it is new for me to face the prospect of tomorrow.
But then I remembered how I sat near you a few days ago,
stroking small curls upon your head and feeling once again
that you listen to every word and I know my tomorrow will
unfold in the memory of your grace and be filled with an anticipation of the unknown.
And now, it is even more a poignant bestowal,
it is as if you chose to do this before you left,
as in the old french phrase: mettre une chose en present à quelqu’un‘
and you put this special thing in the presence of me.
This special thing was to help me want tomorrow,
to see the light of day, to smile, to look upward and wave.
For you in return, I send you my love that is deep, a love that is strong,
and a love that is true–That is my love for you.