“Your dad died many years ago.” I said.
“Yet you never visit his grave.”
“Did you have a falling out?”
“Is there something you never forgave?”
She smiled.
“Dad took my hand when he was sick.”
“In a few moments...he would fade.”
“He said, there’s no substitute for the time we’ve had...
and the memories we’ve made.”
“Our future’s about to be taken...
and I know that doesn’t seem fair...
but whenever you want to see me...
visit your memories…I’ll be there.”
“I don’t need to visit his grave”, she said,
“and I know he wouldn’t mind
for I visit him whenever I want
in the memories he left behind.”
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