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Butterfly
I remember a time…
A time of innocence and FREEDOM.
L o n g summer days spent young and carefree.
There I was holding my grammas soft sweet hand that held such a promise of love and safety. However, there she was holding
me back from chasing after a tiny harmless butterfly that flew from my hand.
I wanted that butterfly sooooo BAD, but she HELD ME BACK!!! Maybe… She was selfish! Maybe… she wanted that butterfly all to herself and that meant that I could NOT have it.
But maybe… just maybe… she saw where that butterfly was going.
So we stood and watched as that creature gracefully fluttered and fell over the sea of traffic.
A few years later and there I was; holding her hand once again, but this time in her hospital bed. Gramma was cold and quiet, but I know that she heard me sing my song about that butterfly. I sang to her that this butterfly was so far out of reach, yet all I wanted was to hold it one more time.
When the machines sang with me, I held grammas hand with all of the strength I had, and I wished with all of my life that she would stay, she just spread her wings and find her way home.
Here I am today breaking out of my cocoon; not yet old, but no longer young. I have not seen that butterfly since then, so I burned its image into my skin to always remind me.
I have thought quite a bit on what I will do if I see that butterfly fluttering past me once again, sauntering just out of reach; I am going to enjoy it while I can. Maybe I will cry just as I did the last time it left me, but maybe I will learn a lesson. People will always want to keep their butterflies forever, but we have to understand that eventually every butterfly is going to do what it does best; fly.
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this is for you, my butterfly. Rest is peace Gramma.