There was a feeling in the air when my parents were alive I can't really describe. Something magical. I have thought about this a lot since my father's death. I can get wisps, mere echoes of this, when I hear certain songs that my parents loved. Or when I look at old photographs of family. Life felt special when I watched my parents dance together, they were both great dancers, ( my father loved to dance, really) this feeling was strengthened when my father told, ( and retold ) the story of how they met. It was love at first sight, they said. Like a fairy tale. It was almost as if the force of their personalities together created a perfect feeling, just for a moment, of something rare, where everything seemed possible. I loved being around them, they were excellent at making anyone feel welcome. I really believe that magic can be created when people find the right person for them. That is what I am missing. This is the feeling I crave. Watching my parents be in love, laughing together, cooking gourmet dinners, listening to Willie Nelson and dancing in their socks. When I look at pictures of them, I try desperately to recreate these feelings of life as a family, I try and remember their faces in candlelight, at Christmas dinner with my sister. As time goes by, I am just left with bits and pieces, constantly looking for that feeling and it is gone, never to return.