I still have the Peace Lily plant that was given to me when Charlie died. I think of him when I see it. I think of some of the times when I would pick him up from his mom's and bring him to dad's house. I worked close to him so it was easy for me to do.
I think of the time when I was upset and he did Jim Carrey impressions to make me laugh.
I think of all the conversations I had with him about Dad's reactions to certain things - like his ear being pierced and his tattoo he got. We had some laughs when trying to guess what he would say.
I think about his tourettes and the tics he had and how much I ignored them when I noticed them.
I think of him when I saw him at Brett's funeral - how I hugged him and cried and told him I didn't see enough of him now that he was older.
I think of his snake he had when he was little.
Every time I see a skate board I think of him - hanging out at the skate boarding place where I picked him up from sometimes. Or the DVD I made of the VHS tapes that he made of himself. In those tapes, it shows him trying different moves over and over and over again until he gets it right. He didn't give up, he just kept on trying until he got it right.
I think of him when I think about painting my house - because he was supposed to help me.
I can't very well go over every thought I have in this post, but the point is I DO think about him. Every day. And I am glad that I do. I don't ever want to forget him.
Happy Birthday, Charlie. I love you very much.