The rainy couple of days that we just had, gave bloom to a beautiful, if not a little bit chilly morning, lit by the powerful beams of the full moon.
I am crying, like the days past. Still the tears donn, my face, as though my emotions are connected to the weather.
I am remembering Abby. I remember the way I ran to his eighth-grade graduation. I thought to myself, he won't miss me, with all of the people that are there. All of the family will be there for him. He's only been in the school for a single year, how sentimental could it be.
The tears that I saw on that boys face were, like a sheet of wetness. Pull yourself together, boy? It made me cry. I see now, in my dear eighth grader, the same sensitive style soul. Always holding tears back for some reason or other.
The people in that school had healed a bruised soul. Education had battered and relationships had held the soul together. Mom wrestled that boy into a learning environment that could work for him.
I see that gleem of light coming through, from my boy's soul. A light that means the joy of learning is being nurtured and not snuffed out.
February is a time to reminisce about my dear and departed Valentines.
I miss you, Abby.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
The full moon was peering in my front door, this morning
The rainy couple of days that we just had, gave bloom to a beautiful, if not a little bit chilly morning, lit by the powerful beams of the full moon.
I am crying, like the days past. Still the tears donn, my face, as though my emotions are connected to the weather.
I am remembering Abby. I remember the way I ran to his eighth-grade graduation. I thought to myself, he won't miss me, with all of the people that are there. All of the family will be there for him. He's only been in the school for a single year, how sentimental could it be.
The tears that I saw on that boys face were, like a sheet of wetness. Pull yourself together, boy? It made me cry. I see now, in my dear eighth grader, the same sensitive style soul. Always holding tears back for some reason or other.
The people in that school had healed a bruised soul. Education had battered and relationships had held the soul together. Mom wrestled that boy into a learning environment that could work for him.
I see that gleem of light coming through, from my boy's soul. A light that means the joy of learning is being nurtured and not snuffed out.
February is a time to reminisce about my dear and departed Valentines.
I miss you, Abby.
Dear Jayne! I once asked a woman how do you heal from loss. She had loss her husband who was her best friend for many years, she said keep making new friends. I like that. I don't think you ever get over the loss of those kinds of loves that we shard with our Abby. I know I will never get over that but I do think the love makes us bigger the love makes us distinct! the Love is endless. I miss Abby with you.
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