My son was not strong by any measure of man.
But his song I will sing whenever I can.
It sounds of truth and rings out of grace,
removing the veil and revealing God's face.
My son was a picture painted bold and bright.
His life throwing color on world's canvas of night.
The subject unfolded, a new stroke each day.
Until brought into focus was true joy's way.
In the least likely place and hard to explain.
Joy was found in the midst of the pain.
The awe of a life and the wonder of birth.
My son was a gift of unspeakable worth.
His heart could not hold his song came to rest.
And I am left with no son to hold on my chest.
My son was not strong by any measure of man.
But his song I will sing whenever I can.
So ask of my boy, consider it no bother.
When I tell of my son I tell of my father.
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This poem was written by Matthew Mooney, another father who's son was lost to Trisomy 18. It touched our hearts so much that we decided to read it at Isaac's funeral service. Again thank you for all the love, support and prayers throughout this experience. Ashley and I couldn't have done it without you. We love you and thank you very much! God Bless.
2 comments:
Travis and Ashlee, What a touching poem. I know I can't even begin to compare my situation with yours. But I like to think I can relate to some of the emotions in some small way. I admire you both. I know I have already said that but your family is truly special. I am sorry for the pain you have had to endure but what an honor to have learned of a whole new level of love, joy and humility. Know that you have taught and touched so many people by your strength and good example. I will continue to pray for your little family. Love, the Browns. ~Chayla, Clay & Lizzie
I love that poem. I'm so glad you guys have made some great friends and found support through this...that poem is beautiful :) Love and miss you guys! Hope all is going well back at home!
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