Tomorrow Ben would turn three. I've realized for those who have lost loved ones...the pain…
If our souls are pure energy, then, Benjamin, you are my sun. Kissing the hilltops of my face each morning, you rise. After the darkest nights, where I miss you so profoundly, I awaken to feel the promise of your touch, again, and again. Magnetically pulling to your ascent and, thereby, allowing me to rise – as if this day, I will get to see your face again. And, I do. Your rays light the earth’s path, out of the depths we crawl to see your brilliance, a promise of you and what you see now that we cannot possibly imagine. Dear Ben, I will forever journey...days, years to be closer to the purity of your soul's rays, as the earth welcomes you each day. My hand outstretches, reaches, upward and each day, just misses your touch, the softness of your skin, the twinkle in your eye, the dimples of your smile – they are too evanescent, and my fingers find only empty space. So, I will follow, forever, until one day, I know, my hand will caress your face again, and I will be home.
