I always think of you in August, sweet girl. I celebrate the month of your death like a blessing. A call to remember. How fast, how fragile, how sweet this life is. You always inspire. And inspiration – that is heavenly.

Deep in August. Thick in heat. Warm in love. Always learning, always speeding. Jamie’s brain is galloping and glistening and listening to the world around him hum back in a thousand tunes that are all beginning to belong to him. He is learning how to own his language. How to articulate love. How to swallow fear.

I must remember how to remember to treasure.

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