Your time on earth is over and what’s left is the rest of us – and a void the size of the Grand Canyon. Those who got to know you, who now miss you, have to find a way to cope without you. You touched so many people and changed so many lives, including mine.
We talked a lot through the years, about everything. Your youthful, honest, kind, loving spirit was in every exchange. You gladly shared your sprightly personality, your hilarious jokes, the amazing stories from your eventful life. You enriched my days. Every time my phone beeped, I hoped it was a message from you. I grew fonder and fonder of you by the day.
When we finally met, you gave me six wonderful days with you. On the first day you took my hand, looked into my eyes and said, “I’ve been looking forward to this moment for so long, I can hardly believe you’re actually here. You’re even more beautiful than I had imagined.”
Over the next few days we laughed and cried, we talked and embraced – and exchanged the words we’d both wanted to say to each other for a long time. Then you sang to me, three times. Your voice was rugged, the words were sincere and your heart and love was in every phrase. I tried not to cry, as I sat on my knees in front of you while you held your hands on my cheeks and crooned softly as you looked into my eyes.
Thanks to you, I had six perfect days that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
Then I had to leave and you slowly got worse – but we managed to stay in touch and exchange sweet messages of love every now and then. We talked a little on the phone on a few occasions, reminded each other of the words we’d exchanged in person and talked about what we’d do when we next met – although we both knew that’d never happen.
When you took your final breath, we had nothing left unsaid. It was still a shock, although it was expected. I’m hurting now for purely selfish reasons – because I’ll never get to spend another day with you, I’ll never get to hear you say “I love you, sweetheart” again and I’ll never get to hold you in my arms again…
But you were ready.
You were fine about leaving your earthly existence, because you’d lived “the perfect life” and because you knew you’d end up in a good place, based on the life you’d been living and the way you’d treated people. I know you wouldn’t have wanted any of us to be sad, you would have wanted us all to follow our dreams, to never settle for less and to celebrate a life well lived.
I’ll love you and keep you in my heart forever, for all that you were to me. Knowing you made me a better person. You reminded me that not realising my full potential is not an option. That it’s up to me to do what it takes to live the life that I want and deserve – just like you did. I’ll never meet anyone else like you, but at least I got to meet you.
I’ll treasure that for the rest of my life. Thank you. For everything.