Dear Philip,

The days slip by and the years grow in number and yet we long to see your face and hear your voice, to wrap our arms around your neck.  Each day brings with it a new set of emotions, and challenges.  Some days are harder than others.  Some days we are carried on the joy of a dream, a dream where we saw your face and held you close. And there isn't a day that passes that we don't imagine the joy of having you walk through the door again.  

There isn't a day when we don't hope.  A mother's hope, a father's hope.  The hope of your sisters, and brothers-in-law.  And the hope of your niece and nephew, who ask questions about you in the quietest and most unexpected moments.  

You are loved more than you know.  And despite the hard days and the long years, we long for your return.  In every crowd, we hope to see your face.  In every ringing of the phone, we ache to hear your voice.  With every knock at the door, the heart has hope that one time it will be you.

And so, hope and love persevere.  Always.

Kocham,

Madzia