My son
Do you remember him? He’s my son.
Did he ever smile at you? I love his smile.
Do you miss him? Not as much as me.
Did your child know him? Did they go to school together,
laugh together, play?
Maybe your child partied with him, drank some, smoked
some.
Do they cry now? I do.
Did he help you out somehow? Build a fence, move some
hay, feed your animals, load your flowers.
Is there an empty spot in your life? There is in mine.
Does your child drink, use drugs? They need help.
Maybe you think they’ll be okay. So did I.
Do you worry where they’ll go in life? Pray they live.
Do you cry with them, for them, because you love them so?
I still cry.
He’s my son. He’s my daughter’s brother. He’s a brother to
five living brothers and one he walks with now. He’s a grandson,
an uncle, a nephew, a cousin.
Did he leave you wondering? Do you blame him?
Look at your child. Do you wonder? Don’t blame.
Did he wave at you, serve you, wait for you, call you?
Will you say his name out loud? Do you hurt for him? Do
you feel his pain? I do.
Will you remember him? He’s my son. His name is Grant
Leroy Rhoan. July 7, 1988 to April 28, 2009.