|By Heather L. Olson|
|For my darling firstborn son Rhys MacCaskill Lachlan Olson|
|I wish just once, someone would come up to me and
say, “I’m so sorry about your son that died,
his name was Rhys, wasn’t it?
Do you have any pictures? Oh let me see!
He was such a beautiful boy,
look, he’s looking right at his Daddy.”
Then, a gentle touch on the sleeve,
”It’s okay, you can cry. You must miss him so much.
I know I cannot take your pain away, but
would you like a hug?
Your tears don’t frighten me,
and I am right here.
After all, it has only been five months,
or a year, or a decade,
what does it matter?
He is still your child.
And you must still hurt