Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Eight Years Ago...

I saw you laying on my lap with hands barely able to fit around my finger. Soon after I watched you learn to walk and run. Shortly after that I remember you crashing into walls at full speed until you got a pair of glasses. I remember you, too young to spell your name, cleaning your glasses with a kleenex.

I saw you with your friends. You belonged to a group of friends, and to each of them you were their best friend. You had a way of connecting with them, letting them know that you cared about them. You even cared about them enough to hand out a few harsh words here and there to straighten them out. There are many people who are extremely glad they were lucky enough to know you.

I saw you learn the piano. At first the going was slow, I remember hearing the first three bars of a song being repeated over and over again. Eventually though I would hear entire songs played through. After that I got to hear songs that no one else had heard before, as you had just made them up yourself.

I saw you developing your interests. As a young kid you were fascinated by the stars and what may exist out there. As you became older you turned to music as a full time hobby. The house would ring with your singing. Soon you had your first guitar, and then your second. You taught yourself to play, and soon you began to write and sing your own songs.

I saw you buy a car. Your first car, bought with your own money. You danced up the driveway holding the license plates proudly above your head.

I saw you start a life of your own. You found yourself a job, and soon afterwards you were promoted. Not long after that you could afford to live on your own. Despite this freedom you had plans of going to university to become a teacher.

Then I saw you in the hospital. You couldn't talk, but you could still squeeze my finger. Then you couldn't even do that anymore. Then you were gone.

I saw you grow older, but not old enough.

I really miss you Laurie.


Anonymous said...

Ouch. I actually cried. I miss her too. It makes me think of my own daughters... specifically the yongest one watching tv in the other room, sick for today. I am going to go over there and give her a big hug and remind her of how much I love her.

Anonymous said...

That is such a great story. It made me cry, but then you know - it's not that hard!