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Suns

 

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My family is a blended family — my two sons and my husband’s two daughters– they are our children, the suns in our lives, and we are thankful every day that we have them in our lives and that we gather together twice a year with all of our grandkids to enjoy each other’s adventures.

This post is about two of our children, Greg and Jacob.

Like all moms, my sons are my suns: they bring the sunshine in any weather. I love them dearly, and memories of their adventures in life keep me strong; I am proud of their journeys in this world. And my oldest son Greg and I miss his younger brother so much each day, though we don’t dwell, just remember.

One such memory is a portrait Jake drew for and of me when he was seven. I’ve had it hanging somewhere in my house ever since. And every time my hair is long and I tuck it up in some kind of knot or bun, I think of that day, that portrait.

Today was no different. Before my daily walk, this time to drop my presidential vote into our county ballot box, I twisted the sides of my hair and drew the twists back up into another twist and held them in place with my leather hair-tie from about 1968. I’ve long since lost the stick to it, but have replaced that with a golf pencil, which is as close to golf as I get.

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And as I watched myself in the mirror, that memory of the little boy and his portrait again flooded my eyes with tears. Though he passed at age 42, he lived a full life, leaving two daughters, and now a grandson, who both share some of his looks– that little curve in his eyebrow, for instance.

And, as always, I pushed the pencil into the hair-tie and immediately walked to the portrait created by little hands so long ago. Love the bun in back, the swirly curls at top, and the rosy cheeks. Two little flowers for a spring day, My house is filled with little tidbits from the kids and grandkids, just for these little memories now that they have grown and gone on to their own lives. Each memory is tucked away, tucked into its place, waiting for that spark to bring it anew again, like tucking away my hair. These are especially strong moments when the child has been lost, even if lost as an adult. It’s a way to grieve slowly, and remember always.

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Prompt: What is something around you that brings a memory forward?


This post is clearly a Slice of My Life, part of a March Slice of Life by The Two Writing Teachers with tweets at #sol20.
crosspost WhatElse

Sheri Edwards View All

Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker

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