Scanning the Journal Part 2-3-4

gangThe humidity has lifted, but after posting my thoughts yesterday on Son #2, I cannot leave out the thoughts on the other three. I have forgotten when I wrote these thoughts, but it must have been a very cold winter day or a sulty humid day when I was just sitting. Period.


How I miss her

when I see mothers and daughters

sharing lunch…shopping…laughing.

I want to grab her up

hold her close like a treasure

to my heart     forever in a special little box

I’ve reserved just for her

and our memories.


Maker of music

lover of words

singing his way through life

whistling even when things

don’t look as good.

Runner of races

loving fresh air

hating tread mills

tolerating them on long winter days.

No longer a child

I still see him at

five ten.

Rides with the current

manages the turbulence

radiates love

so proud he’s my youngest son.


You are my first born son

so you were the model

   for your brothers.

But you step to a different drummer.

You love the land..the earth..the trees

and so you are today

one with the land you love

and I am glad you’re happy.

So just kick up the leaves in Autumn…

take a photo of the first wild flowers

watch the sun rise and deer run down the hill

    to the stone wall

and think of me.

I love you.

That ends the tributes to my “fabulous four” as I called them way back when. Thanks for sticking with me while I took this journey back in time.


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