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9/23/1989 - 1/20/2009

Grief dropped like a huge guillotine
 on the world of me, my daughter and wife.
My son Caleb was only nineteen,
 when too soon he left our life.

He was a marine off on holiday,
 with two friends from the base.
They drove to one's family to stay,
 and on the way back tragedy took place.

My son's roommate asleep at the wheel,
 crossed the median and into traffic.
The driver lived, the others were killed,
 the scene surreal and tragic.

He was buried in his uniform of blue,
 at the graveside my wife was given a flag.
Shots were fired and Taps were blew,
 we felt proud but too hurt to brag.

Grief stayed and filled our home,
 condolences were sent, but none were found.
We hid in our house not far to roam,                                                                                                   only to son's grave on the edge of town. 

Dreams of Caleb soon filled my sleep,
 visions of him in heaven the theme.
This is where his memory I keep,
 locked away in a pleasant dream.

It's true in time wounds will heal,
 but they leave a nasty scar.
When from time to time grief I feel,
 I visit Caleb for a dream is not that far.

God saw fit to bless our lives,
 with a gift of another precious son.
Grief is weakened as joy deprives
 and puts sorrow on the run.

Nine years have passed since that day,
 that took Caleb from our life.
I sit and watch my daughter's daughter play,
 with young uncle and my wife.

So tonight before I fall asleep,
 on knees I'll bow and pray.
I'll ask the Lord my soul to keep
 and thank him for the sons he gave 
 and the one he took away.

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