You loved the sunlight. Even when you were pale and skinny, you would take off your shirt and sit outside, the sunlight warming your skin. Especially after the endless gray, dark days of winter when we were cooped up inside. Then Spring started to tease us with a warm day here or there and blue skies with bright sunlight. You took advantage of those bright days of light. You said you “lived” for days like those

Sickness had a way of peeling back all the layers of what we believed was important. One by one, a layer would fall away. Working, holding grudges, complaining about stupid things, what the neighbors would think, falling and falling away. Revealing what was really important: love, hope, faith, kindness, togetherness, unity, strength and beauty.

So, on a beautiful day filled with light and warmth, we would try to revel in its perfection. We would sit outside until our skin was burning with the heat, then retreat into a shady spot. We would watch the red tailed hawks and gray herons fly overhead, and the sparrows, robins and cardinals flit around the yard. The lake would move with the breeze blowing over it, and sparkle with the reflected sunlight. Our tomato plants would fill the yard with their earthy scent, and the dog would be busy chasing squirrels into trees. And we would talk and talk. We always had things to talk about, you and I.

This spring I will sit outside and remember you. I will see you in my mind, the light spilling over your chest and hear you laugh at something funny I said. I will feel the peace we once shared in the yard of our home and I will miss you, but I will love you even more.

Writing Prompts