Dearest Mokie, this was a weekend to be remembered, memories to cherish. Not the manner of celebrating your 21st birthday that I had ever anticipated, but unexpectedly wonderful and joy filled regardless.
Erin, little Erin, masterfully orchestrated the Morgan Harrington Memorial Golf Tournament. It was fun and crazy and hot as blazes and it rained and that didn’t matter a bit. There was great food and gorillas and cake (Papa thanks you much) and a bubble machine and tears and Morgan, love permeated every moment. Papa careened around Hanging Rock Golf Course in a cart desperately searching for the turn signal and/or cruise control. I quickly gave up my co-pilot seat when I realized he wasn’t really clear that it was not a bumper car. Another new place you have taken us to.
Your memorial at the bridge in Charlottesville had balloons and more cake, and prayers and laughter and I lay on the sidewalk after and did the ugly cry and stroked the pictures of your face. Somehow that spot has the feeling of sacred ground to us now.
Our neighborhood had that sacred aspect as we looked out at the 21 luminaries around our yard that loved ones had placed in your memory. Dan crawled back into bed after a 4am Kirby pit stop and nudged me to report “Morgan’s birthday candles are still burning bright”.
And you did my little Morgan; you burned so bright and shiney. Perhaps such incandescence is only meant to last for a short while.
I don’t understand the place we live now. The tsunami of love we have received in the last few days leaves us breathless and humble. If we can find enough faith to let this flow over us and not block it, the fact that you were, that Morgan Harrington lived, will really change the world.
An amazing meteor ride you are taking us on, as you leave Morgan. We are holding tight. Take us where you will. Love abides.