Here I stand; she holds my hand.
The smell of wet earth fills my nostrils, and the late summer sun warms my face. The wind blows foretelling a storm.
Everyone is here but you. No one knows what to say but they all look beautiful. Suits, dresses, nice shoes, and colourful ties contrast the grey, green, and brown.
Read more at The Creative Act: http://thecreativeact.wordpress.com/2008/09/18/bye-mom/