That is how I am starting to think if my fourth son...my little shooting star. He is gone now. Such a short time with me, a flash across my heart that is now just a memory. There is nothing to hold on to, no earthly reminders. If it weren't for any empty ache I would swear it was my imagination.
My shooting star is free from any burden that may have been his. Untethered from us all, but free. It just wasn't meant to be.