More appropriately said...missing my heart. She was extraordinary. She was remarkably beautiful. She was kind and loving. She was my best friend. Everyone who ever met Matisse will tell you that she was special. She has been gone now since October, but somehow the ache remains. The glimpse of her I get out of the corner of my eye. Stepping over a long gone dog bed in the middle of the night. I can still sense her. I smell her. Strangely always the smell of graham crackers. Matisse, I miss you. I miss you. I know that she is even now still around and will always live in our memories and hearts, but I miss the physical, soft as seal, bony of body, love of my life. May you forever run in the sunshine with brother Mowgli.
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