This past week, my stepson was brutally murdered. He was 24 years old. Because of the circumstances of his death, we have no remains to bury. All we have are tears, photographs and perhaps later on a few ashes.
On top of our loss, we have been criticized and judged harshly for every parental decision during his short life. Though my husband and I are not perfect, we love Charles unconditionally.
I wrote this poem 22 years ago, on the day I met my future stepson, Charles Devin Giles. I pray that he reads this from heaven as a testament that he was loved.
Charles
Charles, he was the greatest shock
in my life. Only two years old,
and if I was asked yesterday he
wouldn’t have existed. I wished
I would’ve known of him sooner,
and I wished he was mine. But if
he was mine then he wouldn’t be
Charles. Part of him would be
missing and that missing part of
his mother would make him less of
a love to me.
I must never try to take her place
because it’s not possible. But
how I would treasure the return
of my love for him. If only words
could describe my emotions for
him and his life.
He and his father how fast they
have changed my heart. In one
love I envy her; In the other I thank
her.
But why should she have all the love
and joy of a Charles. Why can’t I
be as blessed as she. For as my eyes
see, she is blind of charles and his
love. How can God let him be hers
when I need so badly, and she does not
want anything. My heart cries for Charles.
Should the time come, would he love me
and mine any less than Charles, Or
should he love Charles the less; My
heart says NO! For me and mine do not
want for Charles’ love, but only for
our own. Without our own we would
be incomplete, and not filled; empty
inside.
I hope I asked not too much from him
to love not only Charles. I ask not
for more love but only an equal amount.
Pray he to understand my wants as well
as my needs. Pray he to share his
love; Pray he to be fair with his
judgment.
~ Bridgett Ann Davis
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