“Daaaddyy loooook!” she cries, yellow shoes flying through the tall green grass in the last days of the hot summer heat. Squeals of delight as she stops and spins, the wind tossing her hat. “Daddy, look!” A stumble and the infectious laughter of a toddler fills the park. The baby boy, perched on the father’s arm, grins upward as he too feels the cool breeze.
I never knew. I never knew that it would just be so much fun.
Do you dance in the wind, little one? Do you float over the trees and swoop down to the lake? Do you slip between the trees and skim the grass? And laugh and laugh and off again for another round?
I always thought you were serious, with the steady gaze and marked silence. That you would watch. But maybe you are like your little sister, never upset for too long.
The little boy gets plucked from his perch. Tossed up into the bright blue sky, your younger brother laughs as he comes back down. But you didn’t. You floated off and left us standing with open arms waiting for a moment which would never come. Off into the dark clouds of the cold gray autumn sunset.
I thought that your tears matched mine, but maybe you run alongside your sister, chasing the leaves. Maybe you live in the sunlight and not the shadows.
You were held but just once, eight hours and five years ago. Kissed and hugged and then you were gone. You slipped from our fingers before we could know you but not before we could love you.
Do you dance in the wind?