Guardians of the Galaxy

The sky is purple tonight and the leaves are rustling. I feel you in the coolness of the evening air. 
Your sister and your brothers watching Guardians of the Galaxy and I know you are on their minds as they watch.
As I lay here, Vinnie plays with the old cork rifle and retrieves the lost flag in the battle raging in his little creative mind.
Lola lays on my legs, and tries in vain to soak up my grief. I see it in her tiny brown eyes...she feels my internal anguish.
The smell of Ken’s goulash wafts into the room and mixes with the scent of pine and spice from the candle burning by your photograph.
I lay here and type, the light from my phone the only illumination in the room. Laughter comes from the living room; a chorus of familiar voices that settle me. I am grounded in their presence. They are here. They are living. Their laughter, a respite from the pain of loosing their big brother. 
I am immersed in the moment. The autumn air, the blabber of the tv, the lives in the next room. But also my thoughts are with you. I carry you as I always have, in my heart.
In my mind I trace your wrists, adorned with the rubber and beaded bracelets of the day. Your long fingers, the curve of your fingernails, the smoothness of your skin that I once lovingly bathed. 
You were always so animated, so full of life. And now you are so still.