Gold Star Mothers of New Mexico

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The Kite by Ruth Wiley, Surviving mom of Liutenant Colonel James Wiley

When

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

Flying high

Above his

Head…

He will

Always

Be There.