One day I will miss you in a happy way

One day I will miss you in a happy way

One day I will not remember you with pain, or remember your pain

And the bottles of drugs that couldn’t take it away

One day I will forget the strong urge I had to slap the innocent guy

Who pulled that sheet over your face, how dare he?!

One day I will see bright pink fuchsia

And not think of that classy final outfit selected by me and you

One day I will listen to a jazz record and not think of you

And your tales of youthful fun before we came along; miniskirts, afros and motor bike rides

One day I will only feel amused at your attempts to do the Macarena

And not wish we could take a salsa class together, I know you would have loved Yoga

One day I will be able to refrain from imagining you with your granddaughters

As I look into their eyes and listen to their sweet high voices just like yours

One day I will stop myself imagining what a fabulous jaja you would have been

And all the mummy wisdom I wouldn’t have to figure out on my own

One day I will stop missing your wicked sense of humour, teasing and pranks

One day I will not feel a pang when I think of something you would have found funny

One day I will stop missing our Sunday afternoon naps and boy talk

Shopping trips, cooking delicious concoctions, discussing Netanyahu and Arafat

One day I will be able to look at your final resting place, and not feel desperately alone

One day I will be able to tell God that I understand why you had to go

One day I will draw comfort from the thought that we will meet again some day

But not today.  It may be 16 years since you left.

But not today.

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