May 18, 2005

Dear Gabriella,

I had an appointment with Dr. Mike this morning.  As soon as I sat down in 
there I started crying.  The last time that I was in there was with you on 
January 21, the day that I brought you to the hospital for the first time.  All 
the memories of you came flooding back to me, all the times that you visited 
Dr. Mike and he was able to help you.

I just had to interrupt this letter and write a 'thank you' note to Dr. Mike.  
He was always able to help you so much, and I wanted to let him know how much I 
appreciated him for that.

This is the second letter that I've written to you since you passed away last 
month.  The first letter I ended up reading at your memorial; this letter is 
just for me.  I very much wish that you could read this, but I know that you 
can not.  I miss you so much, Gabriella.  Some days go by so easily, and some 
days are just so damn HARD.  The easy days pass quickly because I'm busy; my 
mind is occupied with other matters.  And, honestly, I'm glad for that.  You 
know, it isn't that I don't want to think about you, but every time I think 
about who you are, and how much you mean to me, I just can't help but cry.

Last night I went out to dinner to El Pinto with Rachel and a couple of 
friends.  In my mind I know that if you were still alive and well that you 
wouldn't have gone there with me as you would have rather had stayed home.  
Last night I wanted you there with me so badly.  I would have loved to have 
heard you recite some of your infamous stories that I know my heart, but that 
you love so much you tell everyone that you meet.  This past summer I told you 
that you needed to get out more so that you could gather some more tales.  I'd 
give anything right now to hear you tell me one of those stories that I'd 
thought had grown so stale.

I spoke to Dave Clark on the phone a few nights ago.  We were reminiscing about 
you.  He was speaking of the early days when he first met you.  His first 
memory of you is you picking him up at his house in a stolen car.  He thought 
that was so cool.  I don't ever remember you telling me this before, but I 
don't put it past you.  Dave has known you for about four years more than I 
have, and there is just so much that he wants to tell Dominic about his "mom."  
Many of those stories I'm not so sure Dominic is ready to hear; I told Dave to 
write them down so that he doesn't forget them.

You know those three compilation books that I gave to you for Christmas of 
2003?  All together they are a collection of three-hundred-fifteen letters that 
I wrote to you over the years.  I'd like other people to be able to share some 
of those memories, some of those thoughts.  There is some very personal stuff 
in there (and there would have to be, I mean how many letters could I come up 
with that would be impersonal?).  Someday I'd like Dominic to be able to read 
those letters.  With this in mind, I want to edit those three books down to one 
book.  I don't plan to discard the extra, as some of it is very good, it's just 
that not everyone that reads those letters would be prepared to understand 
everything you and I shared together.

We had a unique bond, you and I.  We sure could be difficult with one another, 
but I guess higher "highs" comes with lower "lows."  I'd rather not have a 
repeat of the relationship that I had with you- no offense meant.  In some ways 
I can't imagine sharing some of what I've shared with you with anyone else.  
I've given it some thought, and, you know, maybe it doesn't matter.  I'm not 
looking to find another Gabriella.  I'm not looking to replace you.  I don't 
need to share everything that you and I had together with someone else.  You 
are My Gabi... no one else will ever be you.  Doubtless that some day I'll have 
another person that I love as much as you- but they'll never replace you.  No 
one can do that.

Always,

Adam