My Little Soldier Boy

Gary, you are my little soldier boy, who died on Veteran's Day. ('83) My sunny, golden-haired soldier boy, that I still miss in every way. You had just turned 13, getting interested in girls. When CF took you from me, my heart, like a flag, unfurled. You fought CF with every breath. For 13 years you tried. And four lung collapses later, after each one, I said, "Son, you will survive." Oh, how I lied! Now, no more hugs and kisses, No more birthday wishes, I watched you go and please God know, Heaven, receive my treasure. Author Note: This poem was written in memory of my son, Gary, who died of Cystic Fibrosis at 13, in 1983. I honor my soldier who so valiantly fought his fight on the battlefield of a life threatening lung disease, which fills the lungs with sticky mucus and makes it difficult to breathe. With all CF children, they struggle with every breath they take just to breathe! My son eventually started to have lung collapses. He had four before the last one took his young life on Veteran's Day weekend in 1983..(Read my poem "A rainbow Glitters") I wouldn't be a poet today, if not for my son. He was diagnoses at age three. As I sat by his hospital bed crying, I reached into my purse for a tissue, but instead, I pulled out a pen. I thought to myself, "Ok, God, I get the message. You want me to write and not cry." So I wrote my first poem that night, "Not MY Son!" Which eventually got published in Elizabeth Kubler Ross' Book "On Children and Death." Later, I wrote humorous poems to entertain my son, who was often to sick to go to school. And I'm still writing my poems today.