I miss your smile. Especially the devious little one you did when you were up to something.
I miss your perfume and powder.
I miss the card games and laughter over old stories.
I miss the way you used to tickle my arm or my neck for hours.
I miss the smell of lavender soap and watching you get your hair done.
I think of you every time I see a hummingbird or use Yardley's soap. I find myself wondering what you would think of the state of our country. I am sad that I can't hear stories from you about when you were young: the depression, the wars, our family. They were comforting. It helped to know that our country made it through hard times and you survived. I find myself searching for that strength now since we are again in dark times. I would prefer to hug you and hear the stories and have you tell me everything will be ok. Instead I will hug myself and think back to the many times we sat on the deck in Arcadia and enjoyed each other and all of the beautiful flowers. I know that where ever you are, you are looking over all of us and smiling.
You will always be alive in my memories.