Month: July 2012

Little Boy Gone From My Sight by Betty Ann Fisher

Little Boy Gone From My Sight

There’s no sound of laughter hereabouts without you. The sunrise is less spectacular because you are no longer here to share. The new buds on the trees at spring bring less rejoicing as did winter’s first snow blanket. There is no mirth nor wit nor wisdom in the stories others tell, because they lack the spontaneity that was so specially yours.

I miss you all the days of my life – waking, sleeping, walking, running, at ease, at work – whatever I do, no matter where or when, until the day I die, you’ll be in my thoughts and mind and heart.

You should have asked before you took leave of life if I could bear the loss. I wish I could have told you – and I though you knew – that you were the essence of my existence. Your dad and brothers counted, as they still do; but having come so close to losing you, I clung more desperately to keep you here that I might bask in the glory and brightness of your sweet and wonderful character, (so foreign to your contemporaries), your appreciation of nature and love of art, your tolerance and love of your fellow man.

We could have talked, I know, and spent more hours together. But I feared intrusion on the little free time you found for yourself. I held you close whenever I could, but was concerned lest you thought I was too possessive.

We should have talked more – oh God I wish we had. I thought wrong all the way – You were my gift from God, the most wonderful thing that I could ever have dear, blessed Little Boy Gone.

Betty Ann Fisher