when we were four

At twenty-seven dad married mom aged twenty-three
Two young adults in love with life without God
One year after I arrived, fourteen days late, healthy and hungry
Another year on, Mia, my sis, showed up but died an hour later
Photos smelling like Tabu among mom’s jewelry, nobody smiling except me
Then we were three

Closing down the factory after bearing my brother―fearing genetic defects might increase
Thirty-two months my junior, beautiful, gentle Derek
Faithful companion in the crowded Portuguese cafe buying warm white bread when school got out
Garden-bound-camping adventures, dramatic Christmas productions, and dressing up the pets
The blonde Wessels-clan shared nine caravanned summers down by the sea
Once when we were four

God moved in with us three months following the February I turned thirteen
He sent people, meals, and flowers three years later in June to Derek’s funeral and for many weeks there after
Mom’s sadness made her legs get weak which stopped dad from running so much to work and back
He built our simple beach house instead where we spent another fourteen Decembers beside the still waters
I miss the noise of many voices
without ever decorating another green tree with tiny lights since then
Now that we are only three again

Crossing eight time zones in seven planes, one train, one bus smuggling American chocolate in for mom
Christmas Eve winks at me ten days from now, celebrating the life of a Son subsequently lost to a sick world
Smelling the salt in the air, hugging dad’s broad shoulders sitting next to mom’s wheelchair
We smile at the Southern Cross and pray in hope for filling this home once more
With children’s laughter, getting sand inside the bed, received as the ultimate gift on earth from God
If one day we could be four again