Missing

Two plates in the dishwasher after dinner, not three,
Bedtime with no forehead to kiss, no song to sing.

Grown-up talk at dinner,
Reading a book until I'm ready to put it down,
Television after dark with the volume loud as we want.

Something - someone - is missing ... and missed.

No hugs from my mini-me,
No quiet, "I love you Dad" when I pad quietly past his door before dawn.

Not grown, but growing, 
and the 14th of many ties/restrictions/bonds between us has been severed.
(I somehow overlooked the first 13 ... bad luck for me)

My Ben ... I miss him.



Jamie, 3/14