Only Son

Graham Thomson Stevenson  
March 30, 1985 - September 22, 2007 

This is a picture of my son taken on our patio. It was the 4th of July, two and a half months before he died.

Only son, treasured one,

How swiftly time has flown,

Such a handsome man you had grown,

Promise born, from my arms you were torn,

Broken heart, shattered dreams,

Can this be as it seems?

Daily tears, how many years can one weep?

Let me sleep and not awake,

For surely this was some dread mistake;

Lost, confused, where to turn?

For connection is what I yearn.

Purpose was, but what purpose is,

When so much focus was his?

Each day I try to walk and try to talk,

Searching for what was lost.

Daily prayers for hope reborn.

Will I always be forlorn?

Precious memories, let grief abate,

And help me to celebrate,

That which was and still endures,

Love, the blessed cure.