Digging through the things you left. Paychecks, bills; it's such a mess. The sight of your name still brings tears to my eyes. I still don't know what brought you your demise. I come across a small yellow paper, my hands shaking, I wish I could see straighter. I slowly read the words on the page, and my heart quickly fills with rage. You shouldn't have left, you should still be here! Look what you've done! I wipe a tear. The yellow paper still in my hand, so I decide to read over it again.
I love you, my dear daughter. And I'll do anything for you. Wherever I'll be, I'll keep you with me.
I read it again and again, and again. Those sweet gentle words still resting in my head. You might not be here with us anymore, but for some reason I feel better than before.
Going through the things that my uncle left before he passed away. It is much harder than I thought it would be.