I'll simply state that I'll be lighting a candle tonight in memory of Charlie, Bobby, and so many others. I never defined you by your disease, but I light a small fire in acknowledgement of that which took you from us, and in recognition of the responsibility we bear to continue vigilance.
And I'll light it because I still miss you and think of you so very often.
I can't swap cooking and restaurant adventures with you anymore; I can't hear your sunny-side up laughter, and it hurts. Wish you'd gotten to meet my husband, and come to our wedding. Just wish we had you back.
I'm glad Mom and Dad got some closure when they went to San Francisco for their visit. Maybe I will, when I have the opportunity to do so.
