It will be 2 years August 16. It feels like an eternety. I miss him. His honesty with his faults like he couldn't live whithout telling white lies and later confessing them, his love for creatures big and small, his emotional intelligence, his trust in me. His sadness and repentance over his being a bad father. He had been a heavy drug addict and recovered and was clean for 8 years, he was deaf but could read lips at 20 yards, he smoked too much, he was the son of an intelligence officer of MI5 and a woman who left her son the "monster" who couldn't talk, in his crib to die. His grandmother took care of him, later he was brought up in foster care and homes and institutions he ran away from, he couldn't keep a job, he was a beliver in God and loved his coffee too sweet and all his cardigans had holes in them. He was the one who helped me get up on my damn feet when I was broken down. crying now gosh this is soppy huh. He died but not without being loved