Don't Panic

Just thinking of you, little sweetheart, and how you very emphatically informed your father that it would be such a terribly good idea for him to give me my first iPhone for Christmas in 2009 because you had one too and it was frustrating you no end having to deal with my bottom of the line Nokia - the free one ya got back then when you signed up for cheapest-they-got service with AT&T. I remember - and I may have noted here before - how as soon as we got back to the house with the brand new phone, that you immediately whisked it out of my hands and into your own so that you could enter all your info as my first "contact" and putting yourself down, as you remain to this day, as "Cheeky". But I was also thinking just now of how you, never terribly tech-minded, thoughtfully gave me a quick tutorial on a few things, chief among them how to actually use the device as a telephone. "It doesn't have any buttons", you said, "but don't worry. If you get a call and they want you to enter a number or something, don't panic", you continued, clearly speaking from (a presumably panicky) experience, "just touch it like this", you showed me, "and a keyboard comes up." It maybe seems like a simple thing, but to me, just now remembering, it is an almost heartbreaking touch of kindness. The extraordinary kindness that simply was your way. The kind of kindness you were filled with and I am forever grateful for. As I am grateful for you and the true love and light you brought to my life. My little sweetheart, I love you so. Love you forever.