claiming our daze and our days on the prairie
happy birthday to my little groundhog-day brother
who is no longer the little boy with smooth brown skin and sweaty ketchup hair, guitars made of anything and made-up words given clear definitons,
but what still remains from our whole life together: tender eyes, a sensitive spirit, passionate hospitality, intense love for those around him (and we are loving you too, tricia, on this day of celebrating…jon is who he is because of you), music from his own hands, and the ability to make me laugh more than anyone else can.
we love you, uncle jonny (“now that you is a gwoan-up,” says eliza).