Just minding my own business, working away, when suddenly I find myself craving the sound of your voice. We have no recordings; no home movies; nothing but flat paper photographs. Didn't figure we would ever need them because you would always be there. Why, oh WHY didn't we take the time/effort to preserve more of you for ourselves? What if I wake up one day and don't remember the soft sound of the gentle sibilance you inherited from your father? How can we recapture what is lost? How do we move on without tearing ourselves apart.
I know I will see you again, but I want you back, NOW.
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