Day 7: A Photo of Someone You Miss

Eleanor
Boston, Massachusetts
1943

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

--Mary Elizabeth Frye

Everyday, I miss you.  It's a hurt that never quite heals. It reminds me of how much you loved me, and that you love me still.