Blood

Monday, December 18, 2017

Eight Years Old

We watched the earth today, easily and plainly.  The day went by and we went with it. I took your little brother for a walk into your woods.  He played as a five year old boy will.  Being a strong helper, moving sticks and rocks from our path.  Checking the depth of the creek, with a toss of a branch.  Calling out to sleeping coyotes.  He loves to howl at the moon, even on nights when she is new.  He is how I imagine you would be.  He calls you his little brother even though  you are three years older.  We sent up balloons to you again.  Your Daddy's got caught in a tree for a bit before it wiggled free.  Cabbott wanted to keep two of them for himself so we let him.  Later after night came he decided on his own to take them out to you.  I watched with him as they floated up.  We lost site of them quickly and only knew where they were as they floated in front of Orion's belt blocking each star's shine. One. Two. Three.  The last baloon to reach you would have been the orange one.  That's your brother's favorite color you know. 

There was no snow this year on your birthday. I always remember snow ever since you left.  It was a little sad for me not having it.  It was also a little easier without it.  Sometimes I think we need that physical thing to hold on to. To hide in.  The memories I have of the tears and guilt.  They are mine I cherish them because they are the thing I most connect with you.  You are in every drop.  Whether it be frozen or not.  Rains are everything.

I lit candles tonight for you.  Cabbott blew them out for you.  I told him he could make a wish for himself and you.  He wished for you to come visit him in a dream.  Dreams of you soon baby brother.  Dreams are everything.
Happy 8th Birthday Frost, we love you.

Night night Frost
Mama loves you

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