For Ken

In addition to the poem I included in "Watching Him Go (Part Two)", I have written a couple other things for Ken since he died. They were written for Ken, but God has used them to comfort me in my sorrow.

This one was for Father's Day. It was written in June, 2007.

Father's Day

I remember your first father’s day.
Your present that year was a sweet little boy—
all wrapped in blue blankets,
with a round little face.
Just right for all the kisses we put on it.

I remember the way you looked at our son
as you held him in the hours after his birth.
The pride in your voice as you said, “It’s a boy!”

I remember your fifth father’s day.
You celebrated then with another
sweet baby boy, born the past winter.
Your love multiplied to embrace this son,
as much as you ever loved,
and continued to love his big brother.

I remember your twelfth father’s day.
Our hearts were broken with the news
that you would have to leave us too soon.
Celebration was bittersweet.
Pain and confusion mixed with love.

This father’s day I watched one son reach a milestone
without you here to share it with him.
I watched the other son cry as he heard
others talk of fun with their fathers.
Celebration only in the fact
that you gave me these two precious
children before you had to go.

I wish I had paid closer attention
to the rest of your father’s days.
I didn’t know we’d have so few,
I miss you so much.
Happy Father’s Day.

The Christmas after Ken died, I searched and searched for some sort of memorial Christmas card to send. Since I couldn't sign Ken's name on the cards anymore, I wanted to be sure and include his memory. I found a couple of memorial cards, but they were not really what I wanted. I had almost given up, but one sleepless night, in the wee-hours, God gave me the words to the following poem. It was exactly what I wanted to say.

THE CHRISTMAS TEAR

The bells were all ringing, the lights all aglow.
The night air was crisp with the taste of new snow.
Santa was smiling from store windows bright.
The sweet sound of carols rang out in the night.
Greetings were given, “Great Tidings! Good Cheer!”
But the cheek of one held a small Christmas tear.

The tear had escaped from a sorrow-filled heart.
Mourning a loved one who had to depart.
Wondering how such joy could abound.
When in this poor heart such sadness was found.
Then a voice kind and gentle said, “Child, listen here.
Don’t you know that I cried the first Christmas tear?”

“The first tear was shed at a sweet baby’s birth,
that brought down the glory of Heaven to earth.
The joy of His coming was spread through the land.
Jesus–My Son–was My love gift to man.
His life here on earth was short–a mere breath.
But the cross that He bore gave you victory from death.”

Then the tear was wiped dry and the voice softly said,
“My child, do not cry. Your loved one’s not dead.
My son came to meet him with arms open wide,
and took him to Heaven when his body grew tired.
He’s waiting there now with a smile on his face.
And until it’s your time, he’ll be saving your place.

When you miss him, remember that he’s not far away.
And I’ll comfort your heart for the time you must stay.
When you go up to Heaven your loved one will be
running to meet you, to bring you to Me.”
Then peace filled the heart. There was nothing to fear.
It had all been washed clean by that sweet Christmas tear.

Written in Memory of my Sweetheart, Ken - 2005

I made the mistake of entering this one in a poetry contest a couple of years later. The judges sent it back and said that it was "trite and predictable". Maybe it is, but it comforted me tremendously when God gave it to me, and it still does.