threaten to spill
out of my eyes
at the strangest moments
I don't know what
brings it on.
Sometimes it makes sense.
A flash of
a memory.
A hint of
a future
not lived.
Sometimes it does not.
A breath of
air.
A moment of
quiet.
Then again…
it never makes sense.
None of this makes
any
sense.
Maybe I will
wake up
and find out this was all
a bad dream…
but I know I won't.
And so I square up my shoulders,
wipe my tears,
grateful for the hand
of a friend
on my shoulder...
Until the next time
I find myself
on the verge
of tears.
I spent less than 24 hours at camp yesterday and today…breathing in the rarefied air of camp in the winter…together with friends and colleagues, some of whom I was seeing for the first time since Sam's death. To be in that space where he learned to roll over, to crawl, to pull himself up…was breathtaking and heart-filling and also so very hard and sad...
 |
| Summer 2006 |
 |
| Summer 2007 |
 |
| Summer 2009 (notice the PJs) |
 |
| This past summer... |
Of course it was sad...
ReplyDeleteHugs and love.
-Lorri
What beautiful images. I love his mismatched PJs! And how amazing it is to see and recognize his spark and his smile even in those much earlier photographs.
ReplyDeleteI hope there was some balm for your heart in being at camp, alongside the tears.
Camp will make you cry, let you cry. It's another home, another Sammy-space. Do not fear, those hands will be there on your shoulder. I know one of them should be Sammy's. I wish one of them were mine.
ReplyDeletebeautiful smiles of the children. sending hugs and warmth.
ReplyDelete