I cannot picture you at 51
Only the living age
In my mind you are forever
The lanky teenager, so
Brilliant, so deep, so fearless
Thinking you were invincible
Free climbing, black diamond skiing,
Breezing through the calculus,
Theater, German club, Latin class,
Inventing, loving, hiding your emotions
In my mind, you are full of life
Is it coincidence that they chose
Your birthday to be Earth Day?
What lead you that faithful day in
February now so long ago to
Dress for adventure, write a note
About exploring a new life, and
Put a bullet in your head?
For decades I have blamed myself,
Hated myself, cried, with the battle king,
“My son, my son, would that I
Had died instead of you!”
For decades I have been torn
Between love for you, my
Firstborn, my joy, the baby for
Whom I prayed, over whom I
Rejoiced, the son of whom I was
So very proud, and
Anger at you for the devastation,
The incurable pain you caused
All of us who loved
And who love
You so very
very much
But today, on your 51st birthday,
With tears making tracks down my
Cheeks and an ever-bleeding wound in my
Heart, I have nothing but love
Sorrow and love mingled
Tender brokenness, as I commend you
Into the everlasting arms of the
One who is Pure and Perfect Love
Believing that one day, I will hold and
Hug you, with tears we will forgive
One another, and I will, at last
Regain my son
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