I look at pictures of our old places, our old haunts. I want to be there again. I know I can’t. The places wouldn’t mean much without you. They wouldn’t mean anything if you are not with me. The clothes you wore when we went out. I have kept them all these years. It doesn’t matter if they are old; they mean everything to me. They are yours. Even if you are gone, never to return, they are yours, an important part of our life together. You taught me what that word—together—means. It is two beings walking on the same street, side by side, with the sun always shining. It is companionship at its highest level.