Instead of concentrating on the present, I choose to remember the good times.

This was taken in much happier times.  Before she met Ed.  She was beautiful.

Gift of Time by Deborah Gibson Taylor

I've grown old and weary 
in your deafening absence
waiting for your presence.
And, I am disappointed.

At every turn, every bend
I hear your voice, see your face
full of beauty, full of grace.
And, I am reminded.

Oft I tremble, my hands shake
recalling fond memories of you
but always old ones, never new.
And, I weep.

My heart is heavy, my eyes tear
when I realize dearest daughter
how much I miss your laughter,
and, our lost gift of time.

I love you, Melissa, please come back!  Mom