If I had the chance, we’d never have left. Never have refused you my time. Never have been so selfish. Back then it was fine, we had all the time in the world. 60 years ahead, I should have known we’d be counting days. But it never even came to that. No warning, no time to prepare. Oh how I wish we could go back to that little house. Where you held me in your arms and the church bells rang out of tune. Oh how you hated them. But that didn’t matter. Because I was there, and I know how you cared. I’ve seen the photos and I know your face, and I know how you loved me. And for as long as we breathe, everything that we achieve, is down to what you told him and me. We are your legacy. And as that young man said at your funeral, that your memory will live on in the things we do. And though he doesn’t tend to speak, I know he misses you so terribly. And until my dy- ing day there’s no way I’d forget the look on your face, as you told me of that portrait that in floods was washed away. The tear in your eye, the first and last time I saw you cry. I just need you to know, how much I miss you.