Dear Shay, I cherish your existence in my life

Today that song “If I Die Young” came on the radio, as we drove along. The lyrics made me think about young children and the way that loss affects their families. Sitting in the front seat beside you, my sister.

My thoughts made me think about the day I found out about the death of your child. I looked over at you, when you suddenly reached over and changed the channel, and I realized you were crying. You were thinking about her too, your daughter, who died before she was even 2 weeks old and you were quietly crying while you drove, making no sound at all.

Many years have passed since the day she died but, that loss still hurts you. You speak of it soo soo rarely.

Even when she died, you waited months and months to write and tell me the devastating news. When we got the letter, I got excited, thinking she’d finally come, only to read 3 times the line that said she’d died, before I could comprehend what it said.

I know it must have taken you ages to write that letter. I knew immediately that you needed me. That’s just how we are, the two of us. We just know each others way, don’t we?
I sold everything I had on hand for the gas money to Pennsylvania. That stuff didn’t matter. You needed me, and I went. That’s love. That’s us.

You drove the car today without bringing any attention to the fact that you were crying. I touched your arm and shared my understanding gaze with you. I didn’t do that because you needed me, even though I made sure you knew I was there for you, it was because I needed to acknowledge, in some small way, how fucking strong you are. How in awe I am of that soul that exists within you. In your heart that hides its hurts but refuses to stop beating forward. How fucking much I love the you that you are.

In that moment I saw you as a warrior. This. This is why you are the person I admire most in the world.

You hide soo much under the surface. You love soo fiercely, give soo endlessly. You are an amazing person.

You never let on that things are happening inside you. You never asks for comfort or assistance, even though they are both readily there for you. You are just that type of person who does what needs doing and loves people without asking anything in return.

You are the type that needs others to avert their eyes from your pain, not draw attention to it. I know this about you but, I also know that pain needs loving response. I touched your arm again without looking at you, and I knew you felt my love. That was enough. That was us, understanding each other. No words needed.

I am writing this because, I feel a need to remember this day. These small moments. Small snapshots of the way we love each other. These moments that shape who we are, and who we love.

Your inner beauty makes me mute.

I love you fiercely.

B

Apples and Pomegranates

The scent of pomegranates
gleefully chase my nose,
making merry with my tongues twisted up translations
and making off with my blue mood.

Like an unrepentent suitor,
mindful of my needs and not my protestations,
you lead my trepidatious heart into places I wasn’t aware I longed to see.

If he had offered me a pomegranate, I’d have given him an apple.
Getting Eve-n, you see.
His eyes drown me, but more like a baptism than a murder.