The Twelfth Moon

Twelve moons have waxed full

Since you took your last sweet breath.

I don’t understand.

 

On your first birthday,

We celebrated milestones:

Sitting, crawling, words.

 

You could say mama,

You laughed with your whole body,

You took steps. We cheered!

 

Those moons waxed slowly,

Invitations to reflect:

Oh my! How you’ve grown!

 

Now, the waxing burns

At a speed that dissolves

Time’s definition.

 

Now, it’s your absence

That competes with your presence

For my reflection.

 

So, I watch the light:

The silver moon, shimmering

Over the ocean;

 

The sun’s rays rising

Through sea grape and sunflower,

Casting gold on sand;

 

The flickering flames

Of the candles I still light,

Warming paper cheeks–

 

And I find you there,

Laughing with your whole being,

Your darling soul, you.

 

Time has betrayed us,

But light—never. So, I watch,

And I try so hard

 

To pour out more light

Through my heart’s tender fissure,

Hoping it will reach.

16 thoughts on “The Twelfth Moon

  1. Love you friend. You have been heavy on my mind lately, and I got to see your ray of light yesterday. Keeping you all in my thoughts during this time . 💗

  2. I think of you, and Benji daily. Each thought is coupled with a prayer and blessing to each. Forever surrounding you both in light and love.

  3. ☀ Honoring the life of your brave beautiful boy today, and holding all of you who love him and miss him in my heart on this anniversary ♥

  4. Your picture of the moon brought me somewhere. A place where we all live and time does not exist. He is the breath of the the trees and the breeze from the gulf. He is here with you. All ways.

  5. Laura, I started reading you blog on Dec 16th 2017. We (and our Doctor) were convinced that our son had Lukemia. We found out that day that he did not. I felt relief but couldn’t stop thinking about the people who get different news, who’s kids are sick. I needed to somehow process the emotional trauma I felt from my son’s experience. The best way seemed to be not to avoid the tough emotions, but to meet them head on.
    Your blog allowed me this privledge. I read it from start to finish. I admit I experienced gut wrenching pain for Benjamin’s pain and your loss, but so much joy, hope and love along the way.
    The way you found love and gratitude amidst some of the toughest things life can deal you has inspired me to find gratitude in all circumstances. It also leaves me hopeful that in a world that can deal us such pain, pain doesn’t have the last word. Love does.
    I finished reading your blog yesterday, not even realizing it was the one year anniversary of Benjamin’s passing. I want to thank you for sharing your story. It was a privledge to be allowed along on the journey.
    You’ve inspired me and my family to join the Bone Marrow Registry and give blood regularly.
    I wish you continued healing and a constant sense of closeness to that amazing boy of yours.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *