Dedicated To Bobby

(For my son Robert Stephen Krempa 7/31/73-4/15/07) Please don't drink and drive...

I never kept a baby book

 

When you were growing up

 

Now I wish I would have

 

Now that you are gone

 

So let me take a peek

 

Into the past

 

To see what I can recall

 

When you were born

 

You had a screeching cry

 

That went right through me

 

You came into this world

 

On a warm summer night

 

You sure put up a fight

 

But that's alright

 

You learned to crawl, walk and stand

 

I knew someday you'd make a fine man

 

At six months old you learned to swim

 

It came quite natural

 

As a toddler you were quite the little gentleman

 

I remember when you wrote on the wall with crayons

 

You humbly erased it all

 

One time you got into a five pound bag of sugar

 

Spread it out into my green shag carpet

 

Talk about a sweet mess

 

You loved to fingerpaint with me

 

You could draw at the age of three

 

By the time that you turned four

 

You would run in and out our door

 

Playing hide and seek

 

By the time you turned five

 

You were a mischievious handsome little guy

 

At age six you loved to play pic up sticks

 

Star Wars and Army men

 

At seven you asked me what it was like in heaven

 

So many questions

 

I never had all the answers for you

 

At age eight you had your first crush

 

On a girl at school

 

At nine you were in your prime

 

At ten it was back to army men

 

Everybody knows

 

You sure loved to play GI Joes

 

You werent too much into fishing

 

But you went anyway

 

Just to please your dad

 

By the time you were eleven

 

You still asked me questions

 

About what it's like in heaven

 

At age twelve, you were quite sure of yourself

 

At thirteen you were the young man I knew you'd be

 

At fourteen you got a job and went to work

 

Helping out the janitor's at school

 

You put in long hours and worked so hard

 

I so admired you

 

At fifteen it was highschool and work

 

At sixteen it was the same

 

At seventeen it was the United States Marines

 

No longer a boy

 

But a full grown man

 

I am so proud to be your mom

 

Age eighteen to twenty-one

 

It was off to the land of the red sun

 

Your new travels had just begun

 

When you came home you turned twenty-two

 

Took care of your sisters

 

Did the best you could do

 

By the time you were twenty-three

 

You felt a need to break free

 

Probably from my apron strings

 

Among other things

 

Told me it was just something you had to do

 

To be on your own

 

To be your own man

 

It was hard for me to understand

 

You promised to keep in touch and you did

 

Not as often as I would have liked

 

I just wanted you home

 

I missed you so much

 

I hated you being so far away

 

So out of touch

 

I must admit you did real good

 

You proved you could survive on your own

 

You got through the tough times

 

You landed a job and took on another

 

You always were an over achiever

 

You worked so hard all your life

 

I just hoped someday you'd take a wife

 

Have some children of your own

 

Not be so all alone

 

Seven years passed by

 

Often I cried

 

Thinking about you

 

I loved you so much

 

Then one day out of the blue

 

You came home

 

I was so happy

 

You'll just never know

 

The way I felt inside

 

A mother's pride

 

And joy

 

Always my little boy

 

Yet such a wonderful man you turned out to be

 

It's a shame you had to die at the young age of thirty-three

 

Thanks to a drunk driver quite literally

 

Reviews

[Carrie Montgomery]

oh my dear...this broke my heart.
the questions he asked about heaven...as if he KNEW he'd be there sooner than he should! It seems as though the ones who leave us too soon ALWAYS burn the brightest and hottest. You made me love this boy of yours as if he were my own with this wonderful portrait you painted of him. You know, God can only loan us His angels for short bursts of time. I feel blessed just knowing YOUR angel's story. Precious one, there obviously was no need to keep a baby book for it is there in YOUR VERY HEART...impressed upon your soul, your mind. He lives on in the love you have of him and your wonderful tribute to him here. He lives on in the kindnesses you bestow upon others, your stories you share of him, IN THIS VERY POEM. He lives on in your heart- where it counts. No "baby book " could ever compare to these honorable words you have dedicated to him. This is a WONDERFUL poem in itself- but the meaning behind it, the tribute to such a fine man... makes it measure up to what poerty REALLY is.

Now on to a "sore spot" for me as well as you...
"It's a shame you had to die at the young age of thirty-three



Thanks to a drunk driver quite literally" if Dui's were treated more severly on 1st offenses, many people would NEVER go on to commit 2nd 3rd or even 4th offenses. 1st offenses are just a "slap on the wrist" 30 days w/o license (shorter if you pay your fine quicker) and a few hours of alcohol awareness counseling" if there was more jail time and stiffer penalties the FIRST offense there would be fewer deaths and fewer a*s hole drunk drivers !@!!!!!!!
my heart goes out to you. this is a wonderful poem!

[Ralphy]

Oh Debileah, what a warm dedication for Robert. You softly put together the years in an album to share his life with us. It was a sad day indeed and my heart does go out to you, along with my tears on his anniversary. You tender words make me cry�thanks for share with us.

[emmajoy]

How can a mother, parents, ever deal with such a terrible tragedy. Surely the pain lasts and lasts. I truly pray your pain is softened just a touch by writing your feelings. They must be so awful to live with. My prayers and thoughts.