This is not the end.
It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
Don’t cry because it’s over.
Smile because it happened.
Those I love I love deeply.
I am sentimental.
I keep cards, letters, things made by little hands, no earthly value but treasured by me, things that hold memories.
Memories of times I have shared with those I love.
The last memory I have of you was you asking me to pray for you.
By that time you were too weak to talk, but you wrote it down on a piece of paper.
A few days later you were gone.
I keep that little piece of paper as a reminder of how fast the days with those we love pass by.
Saying goodbye has always been difficult for me.
And I never said goodbye to you.
Because it really wasn’t goodbye.
In that last days of my father’s life I traveled to Nashville to see him. As I was leaving to return home I told him goodbye. He said to me
“It’s not goodbye son, it’s see you later”.
And he was right.
It’s not goodbye.
I know we will meet again in that place where the real story begins.
Still I miss you here.