She was a person full of life.
She used to read stories and fairy tales to me, using a different voice for each character.
She would always find a reason to laugh, even on the gloomiest of days.
She taught me how to build sand castles and pretended to eat my clumsy sand cakes.
She had these eyes – eyes that were made for so much more than seeing, eyes reflecting a deep shade of understanding.
She had this smile – so radiant, you couldn’t help but smile back at her.
She’s gone, yet she’s still here.
She’s in the butterflies I see in my garden.
She’s in every gust of wind I feel on my face.
She’s in the wrinkles around my mum’s eyes, she’s in her high cheekbones and curved nose and sharp jaw line.
She’s in the photos hung in my house.
She’s in her children – their need for adventure, their sense of humor, their values and hopes and dreams.
She’s in countless memories.
She’s in the food we cook and the cakes we bake with help from her handwritten recipes.
She’s in the hearts of the people whose lives she touched.
She’s in an urn, under the ground.
She will be grieved. So much it aches.
She will make us smile and she will make us cry.
She will be loved and loved and loved. Endlessly.
She will be celebrated and she will be thanked. For she brought so much joy into life.
She will be missed.
I love you.