The last night that we had together I spent pulling every old photograph from every old photo album that I could find in mom's basement; looking at each, one at a time, watching you feel the lines in your face as you described the years as they had passed by. I felt the veins in your arms, watching you feel the blood flow from the heart that had eventually led to the bloodline of my life and when you left, I could have cried, but you laughed as you smiled and that's something that I'll always have to play on the projector screen in my mind. The evening that I received the phone call that you had gone, I finally let those tears fall. The night we said our final goodbyes, I stood beside your casket, staring at closed eyes, asking all the questions I had left in my head; words I wished I'd said while you were still alive. It hurt to see them cover up your veins. It hurts to know I'll never hear your voice again, but I'm so happy that you found rest. I know better than to say that this wasn't for the best.