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Showing posts from December, 2017

Ask you

I’m not sure if the memories are true, Because I’ll never be able to ask you, And that is what weakens me most. To live them in my mind, and not yours, too, Those stolen moments and dreams  And wonderfully sweet things, Can you remember those things, even in Heaven?  I’d ask if I was right, “Remember that one night!?” And you’d frown and correct where I was wrong, You’d remind me of a detail, And I’d do the same, Until a picture, painted, within a shared frame. I’d tell you all the good things you’ve left with me, And in curiosity, I’d ask if I’d also given you any.  I’d like to hope, a few, but perhaps just one or two, Is all you could remind me of from Heaven.  If I see you again, I’ll say something witty (because that’s what I do when I’m nervous). I hope you will smile, and just sit for a while, to talk about life before pagers.  (See? That’s kind of funny when you stop to think about when we had pagers and the time before pagers even...).  I’m still wi...

A’bu

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She said “A’bu” as she pulled the door shut behind her. It was her way of leaving me in peace, with a lasting sentiment upon her departure.  “A’bu”, she said, to follow my own “love you”. I smiled. The same sleepy half-smile that is always kept on reserve for when Alana does, or says, something unexpectedly sweet and endearing.  Was this her first formal “I love you”?  Yes. I’m certain it was.  It was clear as day.  It was yet another sweet touch to her profoundly active and wide vocabulary.  From simple words like “spider” to complex questions like “where’dgo” our youngest is quickly asserting herself as a clear communicator. You’ll know when she wants to watch TV- her hand twisting upwards while inquiring: “wher’mo?” As she scans the couches and tabletops in search of remote control.  And it’s always the same show... “Cocoyo” she demands-  which sounds remarkably close to “Pocoyo”- the title of her favorite cartoon. Alana loves to jump- and she ...