My mother and father’s pictures are everywhere in my home. Every morning when I awake – I see them and say “Good morning.” Throughout the day I talk with my mother and father. I share with them my tears that I still have for them, because I miss them so very much. I share with them the joyful moments of my day and yes, the angry ones.

I know, with all my heart my parents would not want me to grieve for them. I can hear my father this very moment saying to me “quit making a big deal of it.” I can hear my mother telling me “to move on with my life.” My reply back to the both of them is “with each day that passes I become stronger, but, I still miss you.” And then, I hear them laugh and I laugh with them.

For 56 years my parents were with me. For the last two years, although I no longer can hug them or kiss them, I can still see them. I close my eyes and see them. I dream about them. And, their pictures fill every inch of my home. It is important for me to keep their memory alive inside of me. I will never forget them. Their memory is everywhere in my home and in my heart.

Everyone will tell me that I am a splitting image of my mother. Every morning when I look at myself in the mirror – I see her. She’s smiling back at me. Every day when I go about my daily grind, I hear my father’s words of encouragement. He would always say to me “live, love and laugh.” He never wanted to see me cry and I know he doesn’t want me crying now.

Deborah Ann Tornillo
Author “36 Days Apart”
http://www.authorsden.com/dtornillo