See, Son?

I laid you in that crib, in June.
And stood there weeping in your room.
Your feet as soft as grandmas wings.
See, son? You were my everything. 

I walked you to that bus in Fall.
Your messy hair, those overalls.
I waved goodbye, your first school day.
See, son? You were my light, my Ray.

I picked you up in Spring, so late.
That party didn’t go so great. 
You cried tears that I felt were mine. 
See, son? Our hearts were intertwined. 

I drove you to your college dorm.
Remember, in that wild storm?
Hugged you goodbye, said I’d be fine.
See, son? Truth is that I was lying. 

I got that call, cold as can be.
Your friend, he asked to speak to me.
An accident? Is he okay?
See, son? I died with you that day. 

I walked alone up to your grave.
To the one I’d give the world to save.
You spoke to me, through wind, you blew:
“See, dad? I’ll always be with you.”