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Because we've never met,
the jigsaw piece that repesents you is missing,
making my heart unfinished.
I want to complete that puzzle,
but having never seen you,
you remain an enigma, a question mark in my life,
and that space in my heart, I fear, will always be empty.
You died before I was even born.
My mother has told me about you--
Stories filled with descriptions
of your kindness,
of your intelligence,
of your patience.
You would have been one of Arthur's knights.
My mother says I am a lot like you.
Multilingual, she says I get my gift for languages from you.
Is that true?
You were quite a teacher,
explaining anything an deverything to whoever asked.
Would you have taught me?
You had a smile for everyone, even in your later years,
when cancer was spreading throughout your body.
Why did you start smoking?
I imagine you sometimes.
I imagine what advice you would give me if you were still alive.
I imagine the way you would listen to me, understanding my worries.
I imagine the love you would give me.
It's not the same, though.
I have no idea if you would be how I imagine.
I know and do not know
who you are.