Friday, April 15, 2011

James at 13


Her heart is full of grief.
Her heart is broken.
The pain runs out the bottom.
Love flows in the top
runs out the bottom.

They let her dress him.
She touches his face, his body
checks to see
if he was taking care
of himself.
He’s not skinny.
She feels better.

She kisses his feet.
Like the day he was born.

My youngest son died on this day, in 1997. His brother lit a candle for him this morning. It is easier now, but not by much. Loss of a child is surely a mother's greatest sorrow. He left four children behind, none of which are in our lives today. I grieve for us all.

1 comment:

Cindy Cornell said...

How much more like his mother could he look? His energy and vitality equaled yours. I wish all those who loved him, and there were many, great memories and loving lives.