Saturday, February 28, 2015
He was mine for the next 11 years until his death. I still miss him dearly. I always will. He loved me and I loved him. After he was gone, I found a little snapshot of him that a friend had taken and made this drawing to honor his memory. Looking into his eyes in the drawing I can still feel his spirit. For quite some time after his death, at night, in the darkness, as I lay in bed, I could feel him walking on the bed, carefully stepping around my legs to look for a comfortable place to sleep. I would lie very still and ask myself, "Is this really happening? How can this be?" I guess he was checking on me to make sure I was okay.