Thursday, August 21, 2008
Your heart stopped beating six years ago today, and part of mine went with you. I don't mind; you owned that part after all.
Tomorrow is your birthday. Your 6th. Only 6 years since my lips touched your cheek and I held you so close. Wishing. Hardly believing.
Never was there a boy so loved; though I didn't ever feel your breath against my neck. It doesn't matter, and it never will. When I lift my hands to my face, I can still feel you in them.. as small as a kitten. My son.
Tomorrow I'm going to the elementary school, and I'm going to send your balloon from there. You'd start grade one in a few short days, and I wish that I could hold your hand and take you in to meet your teacher. I wish so many things.
Instead, I'll send your birthday balloon with my kiss upon it. I'll watch it until it disappears. And I'll wish. As always.