Decades

I used to wonder how you could do it. How, when spring was finally returning and the sun shining. How, when the worst was behind us and your laugh was so infectious. All the best was yet to come and it was such a beautiful morning. Still you opened that window and closed your every door. It's been ten years today, and I didn't realize until I walked up seventh avenue crying, muffling the sounds because my father was at the other end of the line. Tell us something fun, he said.

It was a beautiful day today, too, if freezing. And I cried, not because I didn't understand. But because I did. 

It was an awfully high building. 

I am still afraid of heights. 

Sometimes we fall when we don't mean to.