Eighteen Summers

I remember the words of my Grandmother, 
All those years ago, 
When I brought you home from the hospital
amongst the fallen snow.

“You only have them for eighteen summers”, she said, 
“So enjoy them all you can. 
Time, it goes so quickly,
and he’ll soon become a man.” 

The summers came upon us,
and I savored every one. 
Hoping I could slow down time
by soaking up the sun.

I remember wishes made on dandelions,
and catching fireflies in jars.
You learned to ride a bike,
and we danced under the stars.

We’d go camping and go fishing.
We’d skip rocks across the pond.
Then tell knock-knock jokes for hours, 
just strengthening the bond.

We spent our days hunting dragons
in clouds up in the sky.
You learned to swim underwater,
build a fort, and make mud pies.

Now, here we are, the eighteenth summer.
Grandmother was right, it went so fast.

Drink it in...

Take a breath...

These memories have to last.

So as you start on your new journey,
I’ll gather fireflies as I roam.
I will place them in jars along the way,
To light your path back home.

I love you, 
Mom