My Sky Was in Love

Yesterday was my Papa's birthday and my mom, Spencer, and I went to his grave to put flowers on it and sing happy birthday.  He is buried, alongside of my Mema, in the military section of the cemetery, as he was a Decorated Seaman who served in the Navy during WWII.  Since his birthday is so close to Memorial Day, his flowers always have a patriotic theme and we add a little American flag- that's what my Mema always did for him and so we continue to do it in her place. I took out the older flowers that were already there and put them on a grave with an empty vase.  That was what my Mema always did- she hated to see someone's resting place without any flowers as if they were just forgotten.  Carrying on these little traditions that are relatively small in the big scheme of their lives, somehow makes me feel the closest to them.  It's the little, probably inconsequential, things that I think they wouldn't want me to forget.

On the drive home Spencer kept singing Happy Birthday to Papa and I joined along with her.  A storm was coming in and the clouds started rolling quickly in the sky. That's when I saw it: my sky was in love.
 

 It started off small and a little undefined, but I knew in my bones what it was going to be since I'd seen one once before- and I was right

 It started to take it's shape, growing a little, but never getting very big.

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And then the sky started to lighten up and my little cloud of love started to roll away just as quickly as it came in.  And I knew, I really really knew, that it was my Mema and Papa saying to me Thank you for remembering. We love you.