I miss you, my little gravel-voiced wise-child. I miss you every day. I thank the heavens that we can still talk, and that I still see you scooting by me out of the corner of my eye at times, but I miss your little self so dearly.
Happy Birthday, Pree. You would have been eighteen years old today, had you kept your body longer. But I still celebrate eighteen years from the day you won my heart.
Thank you, my little friend, for all that you have given me.
Happy Birthday, Pree.
