(Written for my nephew Benjamin. First part written March 9,2010, five months before Ben turned 20 years old.)
Not my son
Do I have the right to love you
Like my son
Not my son
Though you're not my son, can I hold you like you are
I was there when you were born
I was there when you came home
I was there to see the smile in your infant eyes
As you grew, I came for birthdays
Holidays and Sundays
I was there to see you grow in heart and size
But now you've put your toys away
It's girls and sports, that's what you play
Your world is changing day by day
Not my son
Do I have right to love you
Like my son
Not my son
Though you're not my son, can I hold you like you are
Not my son
The road is stretching farther
The lessons learned are harder
The ones who call you son seem light years away
It feels like no one understands
Like no one's there to lend a hand
Not my son, can you turn your head my way
But now you've put your toys away
It's cars and cranes, that's what you play
Your world is changing day by day
Not my son
Do I have right to love you
Like my son
Not my son
Though you're not my son, can I hold you like you are
I will always love you
You're the son I never had
Only God and they could love you more
( Benjamin passes away January 14, 2017 at 26.5 yrs:
new verse written January 31, 2017)
Not my son, my heart’s on hold
How do I love you,
How do I let you go
I cannot feel the loss like the ones who call you son
My world goes on without you but my heart still doesn’t know
But now you put it all away
In Paradise is where you play
The world it changed that Saturday
Not my Son
Do I have the right to grieve for you
Like my son
Not my son
If only in my dreams, can I hold you like you are
© Ruby Neumann
Poet's Note:
I debated posting this poem on my blog before. Maybe I know why I didn't. I first recited it at the Edmonton Poetry Festival and it garnered some heartfelt praise. It is the title poem of the book I wrote after Ben died.
"Not my Son" the book is a compilation of stories, poems and letters all painting a portrait of the journey of one very precious nephew of mine. His story, our story and my story after his story was over are all told in the pages of this book. There is only one copy. It is a book that will never see publication and that's not because his story doesn't need to be told. It's because I don't feel like my perspective of the story matters to anyone other than me. I wrote the book, collected the stories and pictures of Ben's life, included letters I wrote him when he was nineteen and filled it with poems I wrote for and about him.
Now the book stays with me in the safety of my home and my heart. Every once in a while I pull it out and share some Benjamin stories with my Mom. She likes the stories, but she hasn't read the whole book. To let her read the whole book is to invite her to feel a pain and loss that I just can't bear to put her through again. I can't bear to put anyone through that again..
I am posting this poem because I have posted other poems that share my grief at not having an official place to grieve. This week that changed. Benjamin's ashes have been laid to rest in the same grave as the Grandpa he loved so much. Now, when I go visit my Dad's grave, I visit Ben's grave. It is an honour for both my mother and I and we will honour his place there as we honour my Dad and my Oma and Opa.
"Not my Son" was written when I still could imagine "God" and "Paradise". I am glad for poems that were written when I still could imagine and I will not change the lyrics for they came from a heart that is on Love's Journey.
