Jon Would’ve Been 50 Tomorrow…
(June 22nd, 2017)
Jon would've been 50 tomorrow—today—the look on Mom's face
of love, wonder, joy, pride—grief—and then she raised up a
smile--”Life is for living, Eli said to me, Grandma, you know what?
Life is for Living!”
All the times we might've had together. All the love Jon might've had.
Might've been a father, uncle, a grandpa by now, even. Visions pop
up along the shore, houses, yards, towns on the bank of a river flowing
by on a beam of sunlight. Smiling faces, riding bikes, picking
guitars, hugging babies, taking hikes and photos in the wilderness,
blasting Floyd, spiraling kaleidoscoping childhood churning into
tall summer weed, blowing in the wind, bursting into smoke of autumn
leaves, fogging cars sliding down blizzardy alleys, roaring and
waving Vive les Langley Brozers in a little Normandy after midnight.
Grinning faces in the dark, lit by fitful fires, by dashboard lights,
by the moon and the spirits of adventure. All the times we had together,
still there, over in the other life across the way from all the times we
might've had. Faces, watching each other growing old. Visions pop
up along the riverbank flowing past, alleyways and boulevards
with moonlight snowing down, clouds in faces, eyes in stars, heads
in galaxies, hearts in sunsets. Arms around each other, hugs Hello and
Goodbye. Little ones on uncles' shoulders. Sunrise river rolls off
its tracks, tumbles, somersaults, snowballs, toboggans down to Mom
and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, carrying us inside to warm clothes and
supper table with faces all around, telling stories, jokes, pass the spuds, Fred,
getting all choked up, gotta go outside to look at the sky, to cry at the sky
of a sunset, a river of faces, the faces of God in the river, all our
faces in the twinkling river of forever.
Jon would've been 50 tomorrow—today—yesterday—the look of love,
wonder, joy, pride—grief—and Mom said “Life is for Living,
Eli said to me, 'Grandma, you know what? Life is for living!'“
(June 22nd, 2017)
Beautiful Mike