I sit here and wonder, all the things that I’ve done.
All of these years since you have been gone.
Would you be proud? What would you say?
Would you laugh at the things, that I have thrown away!
I hope you’d be proud of the life I have led.
Of how I’ve kept going, not curled up instead.
I hope you would be proud, knowing I think of you.
Every day that goes by, memories that I live through.
I have sold our old house and bought one just for me.
Dad is my lodger, like you said he would be.
The websites still going, the writing is too.
Worldwide, people read it, everyone except you.
I have remade my life, just as I had to do.
But you’re always with me, in life through and through.
I have remade my world, it’s quieter now.
Without you in it with me, I manage somehow.
I count every year. This year, number six.
Feels like much longer. Still feels like a trick.
I wonder someday, will you walk in my door.
Then I remember, you are here no more.
All I can hope, is that you’re proud of me.
Living my life with your memory.
