I saw you today in my right hand. The fingers turn slightly to the right just like yours did.

I see you in the mirror every morning. My nose tells me I am not adopted as my siblings used to tease me about.

I feel you as I read mysteries, especially those that take place in a small English village. Your passion for reading shaped me and continues to shape others.

I miss you on your birthday and know that I will miss you more on mine when the card does not come in the mail and the phone does not ring with your cheerful voice telling me about the day I was born.

I miss you when I look at my granddaughter and think about how much you would have loved her. She is so full of joy and I see a little of you in her when she laughs.

Your laugh was infectious and I remember all the times we sat around the dining table long after the meal was gone – laughing for no reason at all.

After you died, a church lady told me that her mom had been gone for forty years and she still misses her every day. These were not helpful words to me at the time, but I think about them every once in a while and realize that she is right.

If only I could have a day to talk to you again and ask you all of the questions that come to my mind about your family, our family, your life.

The pastor at your memorial said that he envisions you in heaven walking without pain or shakes. Those words make we believe in heaven when I have my doubts. I see Dad and Eric with you now – healthy and whole – and it gives me comfort.

Happy Belated Birthday Mom