I remember you. I remember your squishy lap, and you always having a warm towel when I played in the sprinklers. I remember snuggling my face into your soft neck. I remember you singing to us on the phone, and in the videos on the phone, and at our house.

You smiled to me, and tickled my feet when you swept underneath my high chair. You let me play wildly, splashingly in the bathtub. I remember you reading to us from whatever book we brought to you,  however many times we asked. I remember you reading to us on the phone, and in the videos on the phone. I remember you sent us fun boxes of cookies and chocolates and t shirts with turtles and flowers on them from your Maui home.

After the blast, when everything stopped, and everything was gone, I still remembered you. I don’t remember who you are, but I remember you loved me, and I was safe in your love. If you can, please come find me. I would like to have you again. I miss you.

I still love you,
D.