This Hallowe'en celebrates a year since your death.

I think back to when you were still alive. The times we went out to the park and played. The lives we used to lead. When you got down on your hands and knees to ask me out. And the three roses you gave me.

I still have the handwritten poem you gave me. I think it's one of my most prized possessions, but I show it to no one. It's just between me and you.

I don't think I ever cried as much as I did when you died. The funeral was so beautiful, Kerry, your mother told the sweetest stories about you and the church was packed -- all of your friends were there. Father Rick played your two favourite songs. And Virginia and I sat right there next to you at the front and cried.

I almost wish it had been an open coffin. I wanted to see you one last time. And know you're gone. There are so many things I wish I had said to you. You loved everyone. Nobody hated you, nobody scorned you. You deserved so much more than anyone on this planet. I don't know, maybe you're in a far better place, but please, please Kerry, know that I still love you and I miss you like crazy.

Always,

Karen.