As I rest in the grass, I watch my eleven year-old carrying a pail of water.
He brings it to his younger brother who is helping their mother arrange lilacs in a vase.
I lie back in the grass and stare up at the sky. It is a beautiful day.
A gentle breeze brings the faint scent of lilac as I gaze at endless blue.
My oldest son did not die in a war. His battles were fought in a hospital as an infant.
And yet, on this Memorial Day, we take a moment to remember him.
We pause from the sometimes hectic routines of our lives to acknowledge one who is not here.
At times like this, I realize what a selfish, greedy person I am.
My family is beautiful and I love them dearly.
I am inspired and uplifted daily by them.
And I thank God for them.
Yet, like a spoiled child, I long for more, for what I cannot have.
Today, as I sit in the grass with my wife and two sons,
I can't help but wish that I was at a park with my wife and three sons,
Instead of the cemetery.
4 comments:
I wish you were at the park too.
Melody
Thanks
This deserves some sort of comment, but I can't see the screen. There seems to be something in my eyes. Don't know if I've ever read anything more heartfelt and touching.
Okay, I thought I had tears in my eyes at the hug post. Now I'm crying at this one. I don't know what else to say other than it is so sad that he is gone.....and thank God for B & N.
Sue Sullivan
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