I envisioned my second post on this blog as one in which I would crow about finally mastering how to get this blog  going, after my first excursion, about two months ago. That post extolling my "stellar" technical skills will have to wait.

Today June 29, 2007, I am dedicating this post to my nephew Leighton Alvie Batiste. Leighton passed away last evening at the tender age of 26. Nephews are supposed to outlive their aunts, or so I thought. I always teased my nephews about being in the "make auntie look short brigade," because from the time they turn 13 or so, I have always had to look up to them. I would give anything to be looking up once more at Leighton. I do not want to look down on him laid out in a casket.

I am going to keep in my heart the handsome, tall, intelligent, and caring young man. One who when I last saw him, enveloped me in his arms, and made me feel safe. It was like a squirrel burrowing in the "arms" of a tree. Well maybe not quite that similarity, but close.  I choose to remember Leighton as my nephew who was pursuing his dream to become a CPA. I choose to remember him as the young man who loved his mother, his father and his grandmother (my mother), with a kindness and caring that was remarked upon.

The intensity of grief at the news of Leighton's death surprised me. I had mistakenly believed that after the death of my mom, no other death would cause such level of grief. I think in this case, the grief may not be as long lasting but it is fierce. My faith, my family and my friends are sustaining me. Joy will come in the morning.