Polishing the Memories
By Melissa Cusick 
For my son, Matthew Thomas Cusick, February 14, 1994 – April 28, 1994 
My precious boy, calmly staring
at someone beyond the edges
of the picture frame.
You are a whisper of beauty.
You are a song of perfection.

Come close and you too can smell,
the outfit that once fit him so well.
Feel his cheek, so smooth, so warm.
Touch his lips, his crooked smile, feel his charm.
Look deep into his sky-blue eyes.
Hold his hand, so small and tender in size.
Can you feel it? He seems so wise.

Smiling back at me, looking deep,
oh, so deep within my soul.
Tell me, why did you have to go?
Was there something I did not know?

My son…
I miss you and all we never had,
all of the steps you never took,
all of the friends you never made,
all of the stories you never told,
all of the boo-boo’s I never kissed,
the girlfriends, the wife, the children, too,
all of the grandchildren…I never had from you.

I dust them off, these memories and thoughts.
I polish them each day.
I dust your picture,
following your eyes,
following you.

Yes, Matthew, following you…some day.

All my love,