Jacky Ralph Amos

Tomorrow is V'day, as in VALENTINE.  I've never given you a Valentine gift, nor you me (never saw it that way, us valentines to each other)...and I've not visited your grave but ONE time since you died, vowing that I wouldn't go visit again until your beautiful grave'cover is ready.

 

It's taking sa long, son, because your poem probably takes forever to chisel out at eight'hundred'something'ish letters.

 

Valentines.  Angie and Haven ALWAYS received a Valentine gift from you.  THEY were sincere Valentines to your heart.  (Angie, if you feel empty'handed tomorrow>>smile!  It's not the physical gift of a rose, the aroma of a boquet, the plush feeling of a stuffed toy, the silliness of a cup (I KNOW what you were planned to get this year...it's the MEANING behind the gift!  LOVE. 

 

TRUE love.  Not temporary love, such as you keep falling into.  Not a phony love, where>>if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.  Not a conditional love, but UNconditional love.  Such as your brother's love>>JACKY'S love.  HE NEVER left you out of the equation when it came to holidays and LOVE gifts.  And YOU, Angie, were always always always first on his love list.  Upper'most.

 

As, too, he was always top'a your list.

 

Do you know how that touches at a mother's heart?  It runs into a DEEP pride.  I sooo love the fact that my kids loved each other with such depth!

 

Angie, tomorrow, you aren't going to physically receive ANYTHING from Jacky.  But don't forget, my girl, that his spirit will be shouting brotherly love into you the entire day.  Receive that!  Dance in your heart, with his spirit!

 

  Haven...she bought you an entire rose'bush, despite my argument that you couldn't plant it where you live...you're not a plant person, more a chocolate (HEART) person....

 

She was determined to get you that tiny wild (tea'cup)  rose'bush, and I gave in.  Later, ponderng it, I wish that I had picked the same out for Jacky.  You can't kill a rose'bush>>'bout near impossible.  You plant it, leave it alone, and it will about consume every inch of your yard, your time, your life....

 

Thus comes in the part of the bible where God so loves to PRUNE.

 

Seriously, Angie>>>May an entire boquet of MEMORIES over'come you tomorrow, your first Valentine Day minus Jacky's presence, but ALWAYS in spirit, causing you to smile on a memory of what TRUE LOVE is, and what true love is ultimately meant to be.

 

Don't forget to honor your Haven.  I find it fascinating that she>>chose (determined it)  a rose'bush to honor YOU with.  KEWL, now that I think about it.

 

I love you, Jacky!  I love you, Angie!  My CHILDREN>>always UNITED despite moments of dis'unitedness.

 

Happy Valentine's Day, my children...

I've been "Memorial'site hoppin'" as usual...

 

And I watch the mothers vent and cry and ask>>why?  And I cry along with them.  And ask WHY?

 

One in particular (in shock that she lost her seemingly stable child to one more drug'pleasure attempt of sorts, and then found herself facing raising HIS child) caused me to wonder if I'm not a phony, trying to show my positive face, not allowing you all to see my negative face.

 

My negative face:  At least twice a week I get myself caught up into a ROLLING BAWL of tears, and wind up in the bathroom mirror, (which is why we needed a new sink, as the other was ripped from the wall).  See, I clung to it so hard, so often, as I wilted to the floor asking God after that stare into the mirror of WHY????  WHY ME?  WHY MINE?  WHY...my Jacky?

 

My negative face:  John and Tracy are kewl characters in my life.  They leave me alone and let me hurt.  They hear the anger, the tears, the cries during the night.  I'm sure that they want to get up and do something>>but they don't.  They are kind enough to leave me alone to be left in a moment that I WANT to be ALONE in.

 

John:  He is helpless to help me.  But he's always here....to help me, if I need a big arm around me for comfort during the night.

 

Some days I want to cry, to laff...to remember, not remember....

 

Some days I want to stare into a mirror (maybe not same mirror, but same spot of the bathroom wall) that I've stared into since I was eighteen years old)>>and CRY.

 

I'm not perfect either.  I know where you are, Jacky.  But...still...I>>CRY.

 

I miss you so much!

Wee's poem.  Read your emails, Wee!

 

But as far as Wee's pretty poem goes...

 

Years ago, I stood outside with our little gr'dau, Merideth.  (My st'gr'child). That child never knew her real maternal gr'mother, and loved ME more than...sugar and cheese.  She was about three, my little shadow, and we were walking around seeing to our birds...and talking.  She sighed and said that (someone) had told her that I wouldn't her REAL gr'ma.  It hurt my feelings that someone would say such as that to her, a tiny CHILD,  but>>patience and even'temper is a gift of God, so I simply smiled and told her that this was correct<<her gr'ma got called to heaven early, but God always provides a replacement of sorts.  And...Ta'da!  I was her replacement!

 

She looked down, and I kid you all not, picked up the smallest, most tiny white feather>>>and presented it to me with a smile.  Her angel gr'ma left it...

 

I have a friend from England, now lives in Spain.  She is several years older than me, but...wow!  Sooo much of our "time'line" of "life" can't keep being so coincidental.  Marriage>>the rhyme or reason of it....Divorce>>rhyme or reason... Remarriage, true companionship. EVERYTHING about us is totally exactly right on cue within our lives, right down to our sons dying.  Except...hers died 28 years ago the moment that he was born.  WE have discussed this picking'up'feather business for years>>always delighted that we (as time'lined) managed to always find and pick up one together.  Jacky's death grieved her, just as her daughter's wedding excited me. (Look out, Angie!)

 

Point is, we have honestly without knowing each other, followed a time'line of EXACT problems, joys, thrills, downers...exactly at the same time.

 

Tomorrow she is going into the mountains (Spain) and will sit and wait, look for, expect to be dropped TWO feathers>>one from her son, and one from my Jacky, (who for years she has>>(smile)<<determined would marry her daughter.

 

Life is cute.  REAL, and cute.

Your instant departure was so shocking, so unreal.  It's still shocking and unreal, your absence.  I love you, Jacky.  One day I will live real with you. 

If anyone see's the in memory poem wendy sent if you click on the picture it will enlarge it so you can read it we just did'nt know how to put it on in full view , and the other on is goof up ,but you can click on imikimi sites on the next one and it has other in memory stuff if you can figure out how to apply it to this site .And if someone knows let us know how to apply this .