Phone call from heaven.
You’d think five years was enough to stop missing someone. But it only gets worse. The longer it gets, the sadness just grows.
I wish heaven had phones. Then it wouldn’t be so hard to lose someone. To hear their voices. Or just their breathing. That way we’ll know they’re there, somewhere, although we can’t see them, we will know they’re never really gone, and we won’t be sad anymore. We just need that hope.