by Janet O’Neill…
Today is the birthday of my grandson, Hunter Ray Yeagle. It matters not the number of his age, he will always be 28 years old. His eyes will always be wide-awake blue and his hair will always be wavy and sun-kissed. He will forever have the beauty of youth. He is absent from this place, this earthly realm. It’s in my memory that he resides, safe, secure and alive. He lives there vividely and I clearly see his face and miraculously hear his voice. In this place he is healthy and always in the light.
And so today I pay tribute to him because I am his grandmother and I love him and always will. We share so much of each other’s history. There is something almost indefinable in the living, in our souls, that in spite of the reality we recognize, we keep looking, and waiting, and waiting. It’s like those moments you think you see someone that can’t possibly be herein life but for a split second you imagine you see that person and your breath catches in your throat and your heart skips a beat. You stare until you realize the vision is someone else; a stranger. You feel a renewed pang of agony even though you know your momentary expectation was impossible. Handling mourning is a forever thing.
I think of Hunter so often. He lingers at the edge of my thoughts always. Because today is the anniversary of the day he was born, I want to pay tribute to him. Happy Birthday, Hunter, In my minds eye, I will see you again tomorrow.
Mim
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