Something made me think of you, so I picked up the phone
And punched in your old familiar number when I heard the dial tone.
The phone rang once, the phone rang twice, but it wasn’t until the third
That I dropped the call, tears in my eyes, as I suddenly remembered
That you would not answer; not this call or the next.
That I will never receive from you another e-mail or text.
I think of you so often, I don’t know how I could forget;
Heaven has no area code. Heaven has no internet.
So often, in happy times. When I’m depressed, or mad.
I want so terribly to speak to you, the way I always had.
Sometimes, I want to hear your laugh. Sometimes I need advice.
Then there are the moments where just your hug would suffice.
But death has silenced your laughter. You’ve no more advice to give.
And I’ll never receive another parent's hug, for however long as I might live.
People say I’m different. I’ve grown-up and changed, they say.
I’ve become a parentless child, now. I've not much choice, in a way.
But I hope you would like the changes. I sincerely hope you’d be proud.
Of the way I’ve behaved throughout your loss, and the woman I am now.
It’s funny, I could never call myself a woman before. The term just never rang true.
I never imagined the word would finally fit upon losing you.
I’m filled with guilt when days come easy. I feel too happy, and it’s too soon.
Even though I know you’d want that; you’d want to see me bloom.
But, there’s a sense of rightness in times like these, when my tears flow.
It somehow confirms my love for you. It reminds me, I’ll never let you go.
It may slip my mind from time to time, when it feels you’re so close that I’m not alone.
But on those days, such as today – I really wish Heaven had a phone.
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