Some may say that I’m morbid, even disrespectful. I say, it’s a matter of perspective, and love, a lot of love.
Today, my love died.
Today, her eyes washed to oceans of blue and glimmers of white.
Today, she surrounded me.
Today, she showed me life floats on.
And, today, I started watching the second season of the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel thinking of her, lost in the ironic perfection of the ’50s, flying away as quickly as she came.
I love you little girl.