Speak Your Name

I will speak your name.

Evelyn.

Really you.

Really us.

The other day we were asked how many grandchildren we have, 

and Grandad did that thing we always do when someone asks.

The pause to count.

And it looks bad, 

like we don't know, 

or have to think about it.

But we do have to think about it.

Because really we have six.

So you see how that works.

You left us so quickly, 

but still you're here.

Always.

You're always with us, Sweetie.

Always our baby girl.

Evelyn.

With that lovely 'y' flowing all cursive-like.

Like all your sibs.

Baby girl.

Except you wouldn't be a baby by now.

You'd be five.

If you'd stayed, you'd be five.

And somehow that makes this year sadder for me.

And all the bad things that have ever happened

can collect around it to weigh it down even more.

And I think I'll just need to stay here in this sad place for a bit.

Which I think is the cost of loving you.

Remarkable, really.

How much you are loved

and all you did was be born to us.

And then it's like I feel you tugging at my hand.

Any time I imagine you, you are always so full of joy.

Laughing.

Running.

Dancing.

I truly do believe there's a lot of dancing where you are.

And then your second name.

I will speak it too.

Hope.