Life gives us many things.
At the same time it robs us of many things.
We can’t take those back. We just miss them.
As J’s aunt, we will find our dying bed at the corner of the earth somewhere.
What will we carry then? What will we chew on when the death won’t come easily? Remorse will be the one word I will hate then.
I just miss the little girl of me. As you miss a Daisy of a girl in you so much.