I commented on a photo of a rainbow someone posted, about how much I needed it, how much rainbows remind me of my daughter and how much I needed a little hello from her that minute. A well-meaning person responded with something to the effect of “I read your story and I could cry all day for you.”
If I knew this person or if I wanted to go on a crazy social media hunt to find her contact information, I would tell her thank you.
Thank you but please don’t cry.
Don’t cry for me because this is what I have.
I have rainbows if I tilt my head just the right way,
children who talk to their sister in the stars,
butterflies that flutter past, two yellow, one orange, when I wish for one more set of footprints to press in the sand.
I have extra I love you‘s and nap-free days and twenty pictures of every moment and just one more story because it is all delicate and fragile and a memory we have made that could just as easily have been taken away.
So maybe I am chasing rainbows
but I don’t miss a single color streaming by.
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