He died when he was only nineteen years old. I was still a baby at the time, so I didn’t remember him. Growing up, I’d always told myself that was lucky. Because you can’t miss someone you don’t remember. But the truth was, I did miss him.

I miss you so much I can’t sleep at night

You can never love people as much as you can miss them.

Whenever I am alone, sadness calls me for his companion.

I fell in love with you when you were forming in my womb, and now I carry you in my heart instead of my arms.

I miss you more than words can say

I wish my feelings had a delete button…

Memories are wonderful to make, but sometimes painful to remember depending on what they are.

“What kind of wife would I be if I left your father simply because he was dead?”

It’s hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.

You never really miss someone until they’re really gone.

“Not only had my brother disappeared, but–and bear with me here–a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.”

“I still loved Granny. It flowed out of my chest. With Granny gone, where would my love go?”

“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also, in our own, to the world.”

“Closed eyes, heart not beating, but a living love.”

“I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day.”

“Because death is the only thing that could have ever kept him from you.”

“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”

Some people are so afraid to die that they never begin to live.

“But she wasn’t around, and that’s the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going in to every fight with backup, you are going into every fight alone.”