On this Day

When my mom died six years ago, I was in London. I got the news in the middle of the night. I was alone. When I called you, little sweetheart, eight hours behind, in California, you immediately burst into tears, and then told me to get on Skype. "I want to see you drink an entire glass of water", you said, "And lie down and try to sleep. I'll be right here at my computer. I will watch you. I will watch you while you'll sleep." You watched over me like an angel, a cyber angel. And when I awoke, you and your mom were there getting me a flight back to New York and on to Michigan. And then, my darling, you flew herself to Detroit and waited all night in the airport to meet my plane. We ran to each other the moment we saw each other, remember? And you were with me, were at my side the entire week as I buried my mother. Who does that? Irrepressible, irreplaceable girl. Until that day, my little sweetheart, when my eyes find you and I may run to gather you in my arms again and forever.