They have become a part of you.

People close to you leave deep impressions on you, sometimes so much that they never really leave your life, though they may have indeed left.

How does one explain the feelings that I get, when I switch on the kitchen lights at night, almost consciously doing so as not to wake up my grandfather who is sleeping just outside? Only thing is: he is no longer there.

Or how I would almost expect that grandma will be there, kneeling on the sofa while praying, the moment I step out of my bedroom after waking up on a saturday morning? She is no longer there.

Or perhaps I would half-expect that a breakfast would be laid in front of me, perhaps a cup of hot milo or a simple cheese sandwich which Mum prepared, when I wake up to leave for school? Those moments are so rare these days I consider them gone.

Or perhaps how I would, in all loneliness and quietness, expect that I should see Mum asking a few questions about myself, before she hurriedly leave for her work? Those few seconds, are slowly fading away.

Or Dad, watering his plants before he leaves for work around 6am. Or maybe even something as simple as that long-haired girl walking to school, crossing the same traffic light as you, morning after morning without fail. You don't know her name, yet feel that you have known her for a lifetime.

These scenes, and these people are so precious to me, I wish I will never forget them. Or as the Beatles sang,

'There are places I'll remember, all my life, though some have changed...

All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all.'