2002-05-08 - 2:42 p.m.

It’s a “cloudy” day

We would lie there on the ground for hours, just staring into the sky. It was one of those blue skies with the big puffy clouds. The kind of sky that almost looks fake. Fake as if someone had painted it on the ceiling of a famous cathedral. We would look for things in the clouds, anything. It could be a bird, a rabbit, maybe even someone famous. What we saw wasn’t what was important, it was that we each saw it, together. Our friends and neighbors thought we were the weirdest two people in the world to lay in the yard looking up. Sometimes some others would join us, only to get bored after a few minutes and leave, trying to talk us into playing ball or riding our bikes. Nothing could get us to leave.

I can’t help but find myself at times staring into the blue sky and having a sense of calm and relaxation come over me. It’s the kind of calm that brings back those memories as if they were just yesterday. The feeling that nothing in the world could replace those days, could make it any better than that particular moment in time. Nothing else mattered.

I also wonder if Steve thought of that when he looked up in the sky before his death. Could he remember those same great days, days when all his problems with his parents and life would go away for those few precious hours? Was he seeing the same sky as me miles away, but a lifetime apart?

I looked up yesterday afternoon into the bright blue sky and heard a voice. A voice from long ago… “do you see it? Its Abe Lincoln’s face… and over there is motorcycle… and over there is… “

Oh how I miss it. I will never look at a cloud in the sky the same way again.

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