Tiny, my heart is broken in a million places…broken again, and again. Broken even in places I thought it already broken. Obviously the shadows will never go away and the sun can never again rise the way it rose while you were here. If it does, I may never again see it as bright, or ever as genial. They say it feels like yesterday but it feels like today, always today. You took your light to heaven with you and left me shadows, or at best a fleeting silhouette. Who would have thought you held most of the world’s kindness in those gifted fingers. You took your light with you to heaven and left us a candlelight to cry by. We will meet again, the Lord guarantees that. Meanwhile we continue to light your candle with thanksgiving and cry by its steady, though comparatively weak, beams. It does not feel like yesterday. It feels like today.