All photos of me are gone from the house or piled in the girls' bedrooms. You have what you wanted: I never existed to you in any special way.
Once in awhile, I would offer to carry you upstairs to bed. You never thought I could do it, but would always let me try. I made it to our bedroom at least twice. A few times I'd make it only halfway up the stairs, but only because you would make me laugh and I'd start to drop you.
I can still hear your laughter. I wish I could hear mine.
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