I was making my tea today when the children from hell next door (OK - they're not from hell at all, but allow an old man some poetic licence...) accosted me.
Young Hugo, who is three and a half and increasingly self-confident, asked me - "Where is your lady?"
I was, to put it mildly, taken aback - my wife died some 18 months ago, and for young Hugo to have remembered her was truly humbling - she was a kind and beautiful person, but to have had such an effect on a two year old was a surprise to me, and deeply disturbing.
His big sister, who is nearly 6 (Chloe, you are going to be a truly great writer...) promptly killed the conversation by reminding Hugo that Laura was dead, even though I had just said she had 'gone away'.
I loved my wife, deeply and probably to excess - but the fact that she has had such an effect on these two young people makes me humble and privileged to have been with her, however mad our time together was.
Laura - the small part of the world that you influenced still loves you, and this particular lumpy bit will love you for ever.