We were at my parents’ house today. As always, the conversation took many turns. It brought back memories.

When Luke was little and would get something new that he really liked, he would take it to bed. I found him in bed with new baseball spikes, ball gloves, even a bat. Also, his new school shoes, ball caps, toys, clothes, and a football.

Luke loved my brother, Uncle Guy, when he was a little boy, he used to hang on to Guy’s leg and Guy would have to drag him around as he walked. One year he put Uncle Guy on his Christmas list to Santa.

Every March we go to my home town of Chatham for pancakes and maple syrup, one of Luke’s favorite things. When the kids were little, my Aunt Martha was the cook. Luke used to come back into the kitchen with me to say hi. He thought the pancakes never tasted as good after she quit cooking them. When Luke was home after field med school, we went. I remember watching him eat the pancakes. He seemed so mature and I couldn’t believe my baby was grown up. I did not know that would be his last time eating Chatham pancakes.

I know we went to see my parents many times when Luke was kittle, but I cannot call forth any specific memories. This makes me sad. I feel as if a part of Luke’s life is slipping away from me. The memories are all I have.

I miss you,Luke.

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