I sat on the bench in the park holding my son’s hand,
Staring silently, thinking this is not what I planned.
How do I begin, what words do I say?
To tell my 6 year old that his dad is gone away?

He tugs on my hand, looks up at my face,
“Mommy, why are we here in this place?”
“Oh, honey, Mommy just needs to talk with you.”
“Help guide me dear Lord,” I murmur, tell me what to do.

“Mommy, please”, he tugs on my hand once more,
“Please, tell me.. what are we here for?”
Where do I begin, what words will make sense?
I know I must do this, there can be no pretense.

From his moment of birth, his dad and I had a plan
We would love and nurture this fine little man.
How could we have known that life had something else in mind.
Sometimes life is hard, it is not always kind.

“Honey, daddy won’t be home again”, I softly weep,
I needed him to know that his dad’s love, he would keep.
“Daddy’s gone to his heavenly home in the sky oh so blue”
“But on his journey to that place he takes his love for you.”

“Mommy, I know daddy’s gone to heaven, cause you see,”
“Before he got really sick, daddy told this to me,”
“He said he was tired and the angels needed him there,”
“He told me even though he is not with us, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

“Don’t cry Mommy, please. Oh Daddy told me that you might,”
“But Mommy, daddy was tired, so tired from the long, long fight,”
“He told me to hold you and tell you he will be there waiting for me and you,”
“I promised him I would Mommy so that is what I must do.”

As he wrapped his arms around me, I lifted my head and smiled,
Our love lived on in this precious young child,
We took each others hand, and walked home together,
This small boy, like his dad, had been sent to make my life better.