Her Laughter

I can hardly remember what it was like.
Where do all our childhood memories like to hide?
Such an innocent time.
Slowly, it comes to me.

A charming wife working days in a city,
Never asking why as a mother of five.
Inseperable, it's impossible for us to forget.
Her laughter is what we'll miss.

And singing those high octaves,
In which only she could hit.
No, I don't want to remember 1989.
The year we first learned of cancer.

Taking it's sweet time in taking her life.