"These Boots of Yours"

Remembering the loss of a loved one.

”These Boots of Yours”

Some days are tougher than others
While others appear to drag on
My eyes search for signs of you
I can only see you when they are closed.

I long for the day to hold you once again
I stare into the abyss, it's dark and cold
A numbing feeling has taken over my body
My mind wanders to the first touch we shared.

It seems a lifetime ago that you held me
I hated letting go of you
Afraid that I’d never see or breathe you in
The scent surrounds me now, wrapping me into you.

I look at the piece of paper in my hand
The numbness of my fingers release it to the floor below
Never wanting to see the words written upon it again
Disconnecting from the world once more.

I unpack the box in front of me
Tears start to flow uncontrollably down my cheeks
I reach in to pull out the few items
Until I reach what once was a part of you.

I stare as I pull them out one at a time
Whipping the tears away with my fingertips
A smile forms upon my lips
As I clutch them to my chest.

The scent of leather, sweat, and you; drift up
As I hold them tightly to my heart
I will always cherish
These Boots of Yours.

Notes ▶︎

My entry for "Honoring Our Veterans - Challenge"  August 2021.

Remembering back on the loss of my loved ones. I so cherished my oldest cousin. He was 20 when he was drafted to Vietnam, and I was 7 years old. I remember the day he shipped out, the whole family went to Galveston, TX to the beach, and we all played in the water. I couldn't swim and still can't to this day. He walked me out into the water. He gave me the encouragement I needed. Well, that is until seaweed wrapped around my feet, and I was wrapped around his neck for dear life within seconds. He finally convinced me to let go laughing at me the whole time. He let me get up on his shoulders to walk back in after playing for a few minutes and splashing around. He left an hour later after lots of hugs and kisses from the family. I watched him walking away from me, praying for his safe return. He suffered PTSD until he passed away from cancer in 2013. I only saw him 3 times after he returned. I miss him dearly and often think of him.

My baby big brother served in Desert Storm and suffered from PTSD as well. He passed away 7 years ago, and he would've been 60 this year. We lost our mom at an early age, and it was hard to recover from it. Ricky had a tough time with it. He is buried with our mother, so he isn't alone. I was going through a box of his that he gave me of old documents, photos, medals, and souvenirs that he wanted me to pass on to his children if he didn't make it back from yet another deployment. I have carried that box around since 1991. Hopefully, I will be able to give it to his oldest daughter this year.

With my memories of these two extraordinary people in my life, I wrote this and dedicate it in memory of them and the others we have lost through the years.