2022 - 2023 remembrances
He was quite a rascal. My sweet little rascal! He loved making people laugh. His friends followed him home from school and filled our backyard with joy. He brought life to our house. Rascal he was, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t polite, a nice boy. Sweet and kind and smart. The makings of a leader. And after all his friends went home, he’d bring out his homework and become serious. He wanted to make something of himself in this world; he wanted to be the first in our family to graduate from college. He made my heart swell with pride. All those hopes and dreams. All that ambition and determination. Where are they now? Where am I now? My heart just aches. How do I live this life without him? * My little girl was just like her mother. So gentle and kind and caring. And, opinionated and fierce. Such a fighter! She defended her little brother in school and she wanted to grow up to defend the underdogs of our world. She wanted to be a lawyer. I remember hiking together in
the woods. We’d sing together and talk. Her world was opening up and she had so many thoughts and questions. She was learning about feminism and inequality and injustices. She was learning what the world was really like. What hope she brought; what inspiration. Well, now a part of me is dead and will never be the same. I miss you baby girl and I can only imagine that you’ve become our sassy guardian angel in the heavens. * She was our little tomgirl. Sweet and shy and brought us so many surprises. She hated wearing dresses and was she stubborn. Only one dress in her closet and it was pristine. Never worn. She loved animals and sports and music. Our backyard was full of stray animals and her room was full of dead insects. In jars, and tiny boxes and pinned onto her bulletin board. But mostly she was outside. Practicing – dribbling, bouncing, throwing. Always the first one picked for the team. Often, after school, more alone than I’d like. But that gave her time to learn how to play the guitar. What a sweet melody she strummed at night. What other surprises would she
bring us? We will never know. We know we loved her sweet, wonderful self. And we know she brought us joy. She did not deserve this. Her classmates did not deserve this. We don’t deserve this! I am just not ready for this. Please, wake me up from this living nightmare. * He started to draw as soon as he could pick up a pencil. On shopping bags and stray pieces of paper and, oh my gosh, even on the walls till he learned better. His teachers didn’t know what to say. They loved his art, but on his assignments? He just had a flare for things. Boy, did he look fine in his ironed pants and clean tennis shoes. He new how to put himself together! He was quiet, but happy and loved. Did we love him! It’s a secret, but he was my favorite. The way he snuggled in my arms. And the way he’d tell me fantastical stories and talk us into another world. I miss you sweet one. Please wait for me in the heavens. Tell stories to the angels and make pictures in the clouds. I miss you and I’ll never be the same.