Wind: 9 mph
Jordan Tailor Miller
August 30, 2007 - October 21, 2007
I have shed many tears for this blue-eyed boy named Jordan. The last time we saw you, you were very happy. I held you with big sister Kita right there and talked to you but when you heard your grandpa's voice you kept looking around for him. As grandpa was talking to you're daddy, you were not interested in listening to what gramma had to say so you started to cry and no way were you letting up for me. You were looking for grandpa, so I said, here grandpa Jordan wants you and guess what, you little monkey, you stopped your crying. You, Jordan, were now in the arms of your grandpa. You two talked to each other for about 45 minutes. Your grandpa was sure a happy, happy man, as was your daddy watching the two of you. I remember you were in a one-piece with bunnies on your feet. I bet those bunnies were tickling your feet. Then you decided that you were hungry, and that, my sweet Jordan, is the very, very last time we saw you and your true blue eyes.
The next time we see you, you are wrapped in a blanket with a tube in your mouth, eyes closed, no more smiles, no more grins, no chance of laughter, no more cuddles to come. You are very cold. I draw you close to me with tears, tears of sadness, tears of pain. As the tears flow from my eyes, I wipe them with my hand and rub them on your forehead and some on your tiny little head. I kiss your head, I beep beep your nose hoping and praying that you would open your eyes, but you don't. I hug and hug you and kiss you and hand you to grandpa. Grandpa sheds many, many more tears. As he is crying one of grandpa's tears drops onto your right eye and Jordan, my little grandson, it so looks like you have also shed a tear. The tear slowly, slowly seeps into your cold skin.
We will miss you Jordan and we love you to pieces.
Lester and Regina Miller Jr.
(Grandpa and grandma)