Today is that day.

Today is that day, when we think of you. 

Because you're here, but you aren't. 

You are the flash of butterfly wings in a garden,

A banal K-pop song on the supermarket tannoy, 

A stray giggle over something bizarre. 

A lock of pink hair, unexpectedly expected.

You are the one who gave cuddles freely, 

Who tried, and failed to befriend your grandmother's bitch cat.

You are the one who loved Taika Waititi, with a passion.

Because we don't eat our friends. 

You are smelly breath in the morning,

And hair that smells of sunshine. 

You are the one who liked her eggs,

Sunny side up, with tomato sauce - the latter a family trait. 

You were smart enough to run away from your grandmother

When she threatened to attach your teenage pimples. 

Your mother and I were not fast enough. 

Another family trait. 

And I think of you often. 

Every time I go to give a pint of blood. 

Or see a Bernese Mountain Dog with a child, 

Or a young girl, dressed in purple, with rail-straight long hair,

Or when I hear a stray giggle.

You made such an impact. 

I don't think about your disease, 

Or the nine months in between, 

Or the abject hell you went through. 

Before you went away. 

I try not to think of come utter waste

Of undeniable potential the world will not see. 

But today is the day I think of you. 

And I know, that you know, where ever you are, that you are always missed. 

Today's song: