Gold Star Mothers of New Mexico
The Kite by Ruth Wiley, Surviving mom of Liutenant Colonel James Wiley
My son was born…
I was like a child with a new toy!
I didn’t want anyone to ruin the freshness of
My newborn joy.
I learned if a child’s toy is a kite and he holds it too close or puts it
In a drawer, it cannot be damaged, but the kite is of little or no use.
I slowly learned to let the string slip through my fingers…
The beauty of my son’s growth and love left me breathless as I watched him
Fly to newfound journeys. I vowed I would never let go of my kite…
But when he went off to war, I felt the string slipping through my fingers.
And then one day…
The string slipped away, and I thought for a while I would
Never see my kite again.
Little did I know that I only need to close my eyes
And think for a moment to visualize
Every moment that we shared.
He comes to me in the
Whisper of the wind, and
The laughter of a child
Running to keep
Ahead of a kite