Walking Through the Glen
“Grieving the loss of a child is a process, it begins the day the child passes and ends the day the parent joins them.”
It’s been eight years since you’ve been gone now my “hunky bunky”. You would have been forty-six years old today son, and my world would have been complete with you still here with me. But if there’s one thing I can be sure of, when we see each other again, we will spend eternity making up for the years I grieved without my boy. Here’s the poem I wrote for you when you were young where we both cried tears of gratitude for having each other…
I took his little hand in mine
And walked him through the glen
Where nursery rhymes and rainbows lived
His journey just began
We’d walk and every now and then
I’d let his hand go free
To wish upon a falling star
Or chase a honeybee
We’d sing together through the day
And wrestle in the grass
Play hide and seek and make believe
Until the day did pass
I’d look upon his sleeping face
When all the day was done
So innocent, so wonderful
So glad that he’s my son
And as he slept, I held him tight
For I knew that when he’s grown
The journey that I shared with him,
He must one day walk alone
My hopes, my love, my wisdom
Were shared while hand in hand
To create a tender heart
When he becomes a man
That little boy with emerald eyes
Who’s made my life aglow,
Who looked to me to lead the way
His hand I must let go
And as his journey starts anew
And mine has found an end
I count myself the richest man
For I walked him through the glen.