Tomorrow would have been his twenty-second birthday.  

But he will not be having his birthday anymore.

He will forever be twenty-one

on the threshold of his adulthood,

his earthly life arrested,

his face without wrinkles,

his muscles strong,

his head full of ideas,

his arms open to embrace me,

his lips so soft and smooth upon my cheek

in the freeze-frame of our last moments together.

Now he visits me,

in my meditative state when I’m praying.

forever twenty-one,

forever smiling at me,

with his eyes so clear,

and beautiful,

and knowing of a wondrous place

I have yet to go.

He wordlessly comforts me

and gives me assurance of the peace-filled life he now leads.

There, he is but a babe,

who will soon celebrate his first birthday in heaven.

But here, I will never stop missing him,

never forget the stories of our lives together.

I must keep them alive,

tell them again and again

to Lora and Michael,

who will carry them into the next generations of this life,

while he lives on in a better place.

To me,

he will be

forever twenty-one,

forever my son.

Copyright 2005 Lora Marie Wade