Waking up to another day. without you here, on this the, thirteenth year.
I know you’d be smiling just knowing it is going to be another hot
sun-baked summer day- you’d be looking for someplace to swim &. something to put in the grill.
You are probably thinking how I can still have tears…
after so long.
I’ll likely always begin these remembrance days
with a lump in my throat as I blink back hot tears.
The hug I feel around my shoulders seems almost real today.
I love you my dear firstborn son. I always will.
Keep watch over your brother and your friends who keep the spark of your memory alive.
Death has not diminished our bond.
©Nancilynnn Saylor 10 June 2017
Nancilynn is Writing again 
Memory is a cruel and wonderful thing, isn’t it, Nancilynn? But I try to always bring to mind that saying, “God gave us memory so we could have roses in December.” We may water those roses with our tears but we do have the roses. My thoughts are with you.
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I am again inspired by your holding your son’s presence in spite of physical absence … these poems of honoring his life nurture you and something much bigger than any one of us.
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Thank you, Jazz. I cannot not write to let his Spirit know.
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