Memories

When I think about Jackson I think about the taste of cookie dough. I think about scraped knees, summer air, ice cream, and sparklers. I think of Christmas, flannel PJs, and eating sweets that were meant for someone else.

I think of sharp words and sharper laughter. I think of tennis balls and the bold, sterile smell of them. I think of a smart boy. I think of the most compassionate person I know.

And, most recent, my fingers braiding his hair. Holding his hand. Forgetting how tall he is until he stands up.

Stood up.

He laid his head in my lap and I told him everything in the world, and when I held him he was a child with bleached hair and big brown eyes and scraped knees.

Dear Jackson, You were the brightest of all of us. I’ll see you again in the stars. Until then, keep shining. We all see you.