  sunt lacrimae rerum (there are tears for things) there are tears for things like: watching a baby take his or her number 1 step into becoming not just a baby, but "look at my child, taking her first step," candlelit dinners, nicely packaged engagement rings awaiting a well-thought out proposal to a future fiance', and tears for scratching your grandmother's back when she can't "quite" reach it just because, she would do the same thing for u. she wallks off into the future, leaving you behind. her destination: adulthood. you, as the parent, nod... shake your head in disbelief, and finally let her "grow up," knowing where she will end up later has been predestined, because she made it that way. u watch her as she packs, moving from side to side hurriedly--- because her flite leaves prompltly at 5:05pm, and it is now 3:45. she looks just like you, and her father has never been there/here for any important event in her life, but you have... and you always will be. you cry constantly. chest-heaving, breaths interrupted because "your baby is leaving," but not for long.
she'll visit. call. write. send cyber hugs your way because you guys are "that close. " there are tears for things like: trying to figure out your sexuality, congrautlating your youngest sibling on his college graduation day, because he is not only your youngest sibling now, but he is "my baby brother done graduated from college," sibling, and tears for scraped knees from running home at nite, trying to "beat the first street lite.
" he can't get you out of his heart. he's tried, but with every blink, your silhouette appears, reminding him of the love he has lost. he writes poems for you. on napkins. notepads. on his two cocoa-brown hands. you were his queen, and forever will be. he cries at nite for you, knowing far away, you are not doing the same thing. for you have moved on. a husband. two beautiful gurls, a boy, and a dog. a home. he does not have the fulfillment you have come to know. so he sheds tear after tear because he believes it is alrite to do so. Tremaine L. Loadholt 
