Sweet Sixteen

 

The world changed since I last wrote about you, my sweet child. It is no more a place of abundant comfort for many on lands you did not learn about in school.

And yet, I saw you in my dream last night. You were wearing a blue dancing gown. You were not the 12 year old I held in my arms for the last time on July 18, 2005. You were all smiles. “It is my Sweet Sixteen dance gown” you said.

One of the last photos I took of you was in the PICU when the clowns came to cheer you up. Even through the pain and your knowing of the short time left, you gave them that laughter I now miss so much.

… The world changed since I last held you in my arms. Now, I hold on to photos of you, of your brother. And sometimes I hold on to the dreams of you in a blue gown.

Just as blue as the gown you wore for the last time on this earth.

 

July 17, 2021

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021