So, it's been seven years since you were last here with us. September 13, 2001. And here I am, writting to you again, continuing the tradition that I started in 2002. I gotta tell you, it sucks. This is not the tradition that I would have wished for, ever, but here we are anyway.
It doesn't get any easier, you know. I might laugh more when I think about you and I may cry less ... But it doesn't really get any easier, knowing that you're not here, and you're not coming back. It still hits me at the strangest times - it's like I forget and then - wham. Mel's dead. The realisation takes my breath away and makes me stop cold for a minute. How? Why? Mel?
You give me smiles at the most random times. All it takes is a song on the radio that we played at your funeral, or an expression that someone might say that makes me automatically think of you, and I'm smiling. Sometimes I'm having a bad day, or I'm upset about something, and it turns everything around. It's like you're watching over me, and it rocks, dude! Keep it up.
It's weird - so many times this week my thoughts have gone to you. On Tuesday night, I dreamt of school, and of Kelly. It was the strangest dream I'd ever had - it made no sense, but I woke up knowing that you gave that dream to me. And then at work, one of the guys started whistling one of the songs that your mum played at your funeral. Out of nowhere. On Wednesday, I heard another song from the funeral on the radio, which I haven't heard in months. Today, I was out house hunting. We ended up at Adams St (!!!!), looking at a place. Thank you.
So, we've made it through another year without you. We share our stories. We see your face. We hear your laugh. Quietly, you live on within us. Your smile stays in our minds, because you were Mel. Who could forget you?
Miss you, Miss Melody.
If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call to make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?