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
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”
Love you so much dear friend. Honoring each Moon and all of the Light with you in my heart.
Surrounding you in light and love, my friend.
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 . ?
Thinking of you all daily and lifting you up in prayer. Love you all so much!
My thoughts and my heart continue to remember you daily. ❤️
Love always. A beautiful little soul could not have had a more wonderful mother.
Hey babe. Love you, miss you, admire you, respect you.
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.
Your beautiful words help us keep Benji’s memory fresh in our minds and our hearts. Thank you!
Love you, cherish our friendship, and always remember and celebrate Benji!
Remembering and sending our love to you and your family
☀ 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 ♥
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.
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.