Memory runs through the whole poem like a habit the speaker can't break. Each stanza pairs an ordinary thing, such as rain, piano music, or a hairless cat, with a small detail about the person the speaker misses. The repeated "reminds me of you" structure makes it feel like a list the mind keeps adding to, and that suggests the speaker can't escape the person anywhere.
Many of the memories are really about a future the two of them planned: the car at sixteen, the shared sheet music, the pots of tiny plants, the matching sweaters. The speaker is mourning what they said they would do, as much as what they did. That's why the ending lands so quietly. They "always wanted to watch things but never got around to it."
The mood is tender and wistful, with a little ache underneath. The plain, unpolished language makes it feel like honest confession. One line about absent fathers hints at why the bond mattered so much.