Who was I talking to?

Like all parents, I hated seeing my child’s feelings hurt, especially during those toddler years when they could be so surprised by disappointment. One night I wrote this to him and his baby brother, Nate. Now, having lost Alex 21 years later, I have to wonder if I was writing it to myself.

 

To Alex, three,

and Nate, one.

 

Before you

start you life,

be warned.

 

Balloons burst.

Toys break.

Blocks fall.

Balls deflate.

Doggies bite,

clowns cry,

leaves turn brown,

flowers die.

Sandcastles

never stay,

kites break free

and fly away.

 

But every kite

that comes untied

gives up the space

it occupied

for another

just as light

just as bouncy,

just as bright

 

Alex, Forsyth

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