It's Funny How These Things Work Out
I have two sons, that's what I say, Although one isn't here today, But in my thoughts he's always there, Still in my heart, still in my care, His youthful face and boyish grin And happy gait will always bring His presence to my empty home, Indeed I think I've always known That, though apart, we two are one, Owen was that type of son. He always knew my thoughtful moods, Would go away and let me brood, But, oh, the funny jokes we shared I wouldn't tell them if I dared, But laugh, I sometimes thought I'd die, His jokes could make a person cry. Now Ben he isn't quite the same, More like his dad, not just in name, But also in his quieter style, To get to know him takes a while, Of course when Owen drowned that day It changed our lives in every way And none of us will ever see The people we were meant to be. Now little Owen, he's a one, And in a way he's like my son, Those big brown eyes and happy face Are full of Owen's youthful grace And lucky us to have him here He's really brought me so much cheer, And Jenny's such a lovely girl And helped Ben face his cheerless world. It's funny how these things work out With Jen and Owen just about To get engaged and buy a house And book a date for changing vows, When off he goes to sail a race And, hopeful of a winning place, Was eager for the main event Not knowing that his life was spent. Now Ben and he were very close And always tried to do their most To help each other in their sport But on that day Ben's staff were short So he was otherwise employed, At not the hobby he enjoyed, And so he wasn't there to see His brother thrown into the sea, And couldn't lend a helping hand When he was dragged up on the sand, Or help poor Jen when she was told His body was far more than cold. His dad and I could not take in, When asked if we were next of kin, And many months we couldn't grieve, You see, you really still believe They'll walk in through that open door And even now I'm still not sure, And think I hear his jolly voice And wonder, when I make a choice, Which dress he'd like to see me wear Just as if he was still there. Then Jenny came and told us all To better knit a baby's shawl, For she and Owen hadn't dared To let us know the news they shared, But far from being quite appalled It's almost though my son had called And said, 'Don't worry, I'm still here, You can't get rid of me, no fear'. And poor dear Jenny, oh so brave, Gave us all the hope we craved And little Owen soon arrived And came the centre of our lives. And then when he was four years old Ben and Jenny came and told How very much they were in love And hoped that we could ride above The sadness of our equal loss And, lovely as my Owen was, He wouldn't want to bar their way And stop another wedding day. And now I have more hugs to give To all the little Keens who live Across the road from me and Jack And though I'd love my Owen back I'm sure he's here, I have no doubt, It's funny how these things work out. |