IT’S CHRIS I MISS

My twins were born one early morn

Back in ’69.

A happy dad was I.

The formative years were joy and no tears,

While they grew in front of my eyes.

But early last month, tragedy struck.

It’s hard to accept when I think of that boy,

Who was so adept in football and chores,

At school and Atari scores.

Why did God take my son?

Was he the only one that would satisfy

The balance?

For nature I know is in continual flow.

But, it’s Chris I miss.

And, I’ll never understand why,

This lesson has to apply.

Our mode of life was without strife

Until this

–a crisis.

Thank God for those who remain,

It certainly helps ease the pain.

To know that their grief is my own,

Makes better the continuity at home.

Still I say:  Where is my Chris today?

That joy that we took for granted,

Will now never be transplanted.

Dad in Mourning