The wet grass under my feet is tickling me toes. As it is glistening greenly in the sun, the trees sway shady on top. A warm summer breeze.
What a beautiful day.
The sky spotless, almost painted. But none of these receive my heart’s attention;
NO…26 inches in front of me…there he is resting, his body lying; peacefully…I hope. He’s covered with flowers I found by the road. (My memories so rare, so scarce). It’s been about eight years since I last saw him and about two since I last saw him in this state of life or death, if death isn’t part of life. All I cannot comprehend at that weird moment of truth is my mother explaining: “ When your little sister is 19, he’ll be gone. Entirely.