Duncan Keegan

Just the saddle of a child's weight against her mother.

a catch of air and tears.

And then she was there.

We watched her foot the threshold to a living room where her dead brother lay.

We saw her eyes trace every line.

She saw the gift of him, the curving verse of all he was and ever would be.

She saw his fate.

We saw her read the poem of a short life.

You know our story is yours.

Yeah?

You know that one day you will stand before a door you do not wish to open, a room you do not wish to enter, and when that day comes, when every word, every line of logic fails, what then?

Will you turn to all your devices of distraction?

I hope not.

I hope instead you feel the press of a kind hand taking yours, the steady press that says, I will take this step with you.

I hope you hear the silence that holds a friend's words in place that says they hear it too.

You, in the poem of your own life,

I hope you have a Sarah, for then you'll see what a mother is for, and you'll learn what a friend is for, and then you'll know, you'll know, you'll know at last what we are for.

Thank you.

Yeah, you know the story will be yours.

There is an experience of parenthood that involves first steps and first moments and moments that you hope you will never forget.