I think of you everyday. When I visit Papa I got to the room and lay on the bed in the exact spot where I watched you take your last breath. On top of the dresser used to be your urn. I would lay there in the dim light and tears would well and burn and all I could think of was your soft bony cheek I kissed when you passed. You were gone so long ago, I said farewell to the shell Alzheimer's forced you into. Feeding you, bathing you, changing you and tucking you into bed. Praying to god as I fell to sleep for him to end my miserable life and to take me then in the midst of my alcohol and caring for you. Watching you slowly die, forget my name, attack me and put my magazines in the fridge. I wished everyday it would end. Everything. Then I got sober half way through. And got better. You lost your ability to walk and got worse. I was six months when you lost your battle. I am still winning mine so far. I thank you Nana for the way you loved me my whole life for exactly what I was. The artist with no ambition who loves everyone. You taught me I could do anything. For our struggle is one that taught me I could survive. I never said goodbye while you understood me. And neither did you. I am happy for that. I could never have said goodbye. Just I will see you again.