I remember him. My spitting image he was. From a toddler and lad- to when he shaved his “fuzz”. He went from trike to bike. A car was his next plan. Drafted when he bought it- my son became a man. I remember him. My little bundle of joy. He clung to my side- he was mama’s little boy. He grew tall and strong was head and shoulders above. Before he shipped out he married his second love. I remember him. I would often tag along. He would always have a joke- or a silly song. I was his maid of honor and little sister. I
I remember him.
My spitting image he was.
From a toddler and lad-
to when he shaved his “fuzz”.
He went from trike to bike.
A car was his next plan.
Drafted when he bought it-
my son became a man.
I remember him.
My little bundle of joy.
He clung to my side-
he was mama’s little boy.
He grew tall and strong
was head and shoulders above.
Before he shipped out
he married his second love.
I remember him.
I would often tag along.
He would always have a joke-
or a silly song.
I was his maid of honor
and little sister.
I cried knowing he’d leave
soon after he kissed her.
I remember him.
He held the door and my chair.
Complimented my dresses
and my curly hair.
He was a true gentleman.
I, his blushing bride.
His leaving left me mixed
with bitterness and pride.
I remember him
in photo albums alone.
I viewed his short life
in the pictures I was shown.
Mother told me
he fell at the enemy’s gun.
He never came home
to hold me, his only son.
“I remember him
by passing him on to you.
Your dear grandfather died
for the Red, White and Blue.”
My daughter climbed my lap
a tear started to brim,
“Show me too daddy…
so I can remember him.”
- Your Words