I sat behind the fence.
Wanting to die and stay alive at the same damn time.
My baby. The only thing I live for, going to a horrible place.
In a blink of an eye, he is all grown up.
Hugs. Kisses. Tears.
The land of the free? I don’t think so.
I am a mom, not a griever.
Please god, take me not my little boy.
I see a hummer in the distance, a tornado of dust behind it.
I feel a deepening pain grow inside, as it gets closer.
I watch.
I watch in amazement, thinking how could you do this to me.
To anyone.
All the parents hurt, but not as much as me.
When I go home, no one will be there to hold me. Divorced- I am alone.
The hummer pulls up and ends in a complete stop.
I scream to him. Be safe.
Remember me as I will remember you,
My happy, young, full of life, good boy.
I love you, don’t you ever forget.
I watch the hummer drive off in to a distance.
I go home with a deep cloud over my head.
I ache so much, its unbelievable.
I hop on to the computer and search around, to get the subject off my mind.
I find a little organization called war moms.
It’s a place where moms get support and help needed to cope with this common problem.
I sign on and sign up.
Since then, everyday after work, weekends, and all free time,
Local churches, local schools and colleges, and homes of other concerned parents,
We meet and brainstorm ways to send out things to them showing that were thinking about them.
Care packages- cute little letters stuck inside the cozy little box simply saying, “I love you. I hope time flies, see you soon.”