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It is another year starting and you are not with me. The sound of your voice fades slowing from my memory. It is an echo that rings in the hollow spaces of my heart. Reflections on puddles of old tears are the mirror to the memory of who we were, what we felt, and meant to each other. I am beyond the grief and frustration of helplessness. I cannot reach across the chasm that is death to reach you. All I can do it remember what we had, what could have been, and take solace in the possibility that we might meet when my time comes to leave this world. Perhaps, when my eyes close for the final time in this world, I might open new eyes to see your smiling face to greet me. That small hope is enough for me now, to be patient.