The radio belted out “Joy to the World!”
You were a teenage boy, but on this
Christmas morning in ‘75, excitement
buzzed! Your dad watched and listened,
relaxed in his corner chair, but your mom
played Santa, just as jolly! The first time
we met. Do you remember?

You and your dad hiked Half Dome that year,
then…the many trips we booked…
those rocky inclines had my sleeves shaking!
Hiking to Italy Pass, 12,000 feet at the top!
We did it! Trekking through the Trinity Alps,
Thousand Island Lake in the Sierra.
And Mount Shasta!
I kept you warm when the air was ice.

What a team we made, and I couldn’t believe
how beautiful the world could be…

Then with the years your adolescence faded like
my blue dye, but I stayed loyal. Why wouldn’t I?
You are my brother, even still, all grown up
with a family of your own.

Lucky is what I feel because ages ago, I thought
I’d be buried beneath piles of clothes at the bottom
of a bag to be given away.
But mostly, I feel privileged for my significance.
I recall her vividly.
She left this world too young, too soon.

You see, when we hang out,
your memories transport you
to that morning when her laughter was music,
her smile was sunlight,
her energy as vibrant as “Joy to the World.”
You travel to the special place in your mind
when your mom was still in your life.

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.
My husband’s loyal blue down jacket. ❤️