There is something about old letters. Reading them, takes me back, everytime. The people in my past who aren’t in my present physically, are still so much apart of me. I still see bits and pieces of you freckled into my words. I catch myself smiling thinking about the time you cried, knocking on my glass sliding door, asking to come in. You stayed in wal-mart with me for 4 hours....
Faith for all defects supplying, where the feeble senses fail.– St. Thomas Aquinas