My Boy

My Boy

Introduction:  This is the poem that I wrote for my Beau which was read by his sister, Kendall, at the funeral.  When you lose someone you love so dearly, all you want is to celebrate their life as beautifully as possible.  To let everyone know what a beautiful person this person was.  Many came to celebrate with us that September 6, 2014.  Many did not know Beau.  And many more did.  Whatever the case, I wanted everyone to know what Beau meant to me.  This is the edited poem that I wrote for My Boy.

MY BOY

My Boy was all BOY.

He ran and jumped and soared and climbed.  And yes, there was a broken bone or two along the way.

There were stitches casts, surgeries, and lots of Band-Aids.  My Boy used up so many Band-Aids, that I decided to put them in his Easter Basket one year, so that he could use up as many as he wanted and needed…or not.

My Boy was all BOY.

My Boy makes me smile.  Beau was not the neatest of kids.  To say he was a “slob” is an understatement.  His car was messy.  His backpack was messy.  His room was messy…oh so messy.  At one point, it made me frustrated, but now I look on it and smile.  That was just Beau.  I miss the dirty socks and crumpled towels on the floor.  And now it is endearing to my heart.

My Boy makes me smile.

My Boy loved me.

He was always at the gym getting, in his words, “swole.”  And each time he would leave the house, he never forgot to say “I love you.”  In fact, we said that to each other a lot.  “I love you.”  Whether it was on the phone, in texts, or in person.  Once recently, I was going through a hard time, and Beau hugged me so tight as I cried and he said to me, “Mom, you’re going to be okay.  You’re going to grow.”  I still hold onto his words of wisdom and love with all of my heart.

My Boy loved me.

My Boy loved Peace.

When he was small, I would put him to bed and scratch his back and sing to him, “Jesus Name Above All Names” to put him to sleep.  And now at 17 years old, he still hummed or sang that song to himself when he was scared.  That song brought him comfort and peace.  The name of Jesus brought him comfort and peace.

My Boy loved Peace.

My Boy was confident.

When he took down the Christmas bins last year, he stacked three high, which scared me.  I said, “Beau, please be careful!” to which he responded, “Mom, please, I am an athletic specimen.”

My Boy was confident.  (NO shortage of self-esteem!)

My Boy lived Big.

He was fearless and daring.  He loved snowboarding, hiking the Boulder Fields, doing flips over anything he could, doing tricks on his bike and soaring into the air on two wheels.    In fact, he still loved jumping on the trampoline and doing flips in the air.  Even when these jumps and flips resulted in a fall that would have caused most of us to quit, my boy got up and tried again.

My Boy lived Big.

My Boy was Confident.

My Boy loved Peace.

My Boy is at Peace.

My Boy loved his Friends.

My Boy made me Smile.

My Boy was all Boy.

And most of all, My Boy loved ME!

5 thoughts on “My Boy

  1. Thank you, Kristi O! I really still don’t know how to use WordPress, hence the very belated reply. I am a work in progress. 🙂

  2. Thanks for sharing your heart, Gina. I don’t completely understand your pain and you don’t completely understand mine, but we share pain. God is still good. God loves us. God will never leave us or forsake us. But there is still pain and He is here. Grace, love and peace to you and all your family.

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