John Ryan Schoenleber 10-14-1982 - 6-18-2012
My Son,
A Gentle Soul, with Tender Heart
You could say…. he was just beautiful in his form.
He was like gravity
Drawing all to be near him
He was the sun
Made you feel warm in his presence.
...
He was the stars, Lighting the night sky.
He was playful
A young Spirit, like his two sons.
His arms, always wanted to be around you
His hugs were heart to heart.
His smile contagious.
He was a river
Making his way down a mountain.
Sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky
But always a welcome drink of water.
He was like a tree
Beautiful in bloom
And solemn when his branches were bare.
He was the word "love"
And used it all the time.
It was a word he purposefully wanted you to hear
And he wanted you to know that is how he felt.
Do you ever recall ending a moment with him
That he didn't say "I Love You"
He was a beautiful painting……Not yet finished.
He was a love song.
Memories of his smile and his warm heart are our gifts from him
As well as his beautiful sons that he has left to our care.
When my heart feels heavy and hurts from longing.
I can hear him telling me "be strong momma"
And I know that now, his river flows in calm water
His stars are even more brilliant
His tree is in full bloom
And his painting is an infinite canvas
Like his spirit.
My Child, I love you and am missing you already.
Written by John's Mother
Nona Leatherwood Maxwell
My Son,
A Gentle Soul, with Tender Heart
You could say…. he was just beautiful in his form.
He was like gravity
Drawing all to be near him
He was the sun
Made you feel warm in his presence.
...
He was the stars, Lighting the night sky.
He was playful
A young Spirit, like his two sons.
His arms, always wanted to be around you
His hugs were heart to heart.
His smile contagious.
He was a river
Making his way down a mountain.
Sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky
But always a welcome drink of water.
He was like a tree
Beautiful in bloom
And solemn when his branches were bare.
He was the word "love"
And used it all the time.
It was a word he purposefully wanted you to hear
And he wanted you to know that is how he felt.
Do you ever recall ending a moment with him
That he didn't say "I Love You"
He was a beautiful painting……Not yet finished.
He was a love song.
Memories of his smile and his warm heart are our gifts from him
As well as his beautiful sons that he has left to our care.
When my heart feels heavy and hurts from longing.
I can hear him telling me "be strong momma"
And I know that now, his river flows in calm water
His stars are even more brilliant
His tree is in full bloom
And his painting is an infinite canvas
Like his spirit.
My Child, I love you and am missing you already.
Written by John's Mother
Nona Leatherwood Maxwell
John Ryan Schoenleber 10-14-1982 - 6-18-2012
My Son,
A Gentle Soul, with Tender Heart
You could say…. he was just beautiful in his form.
He was like gravity
Drawing all to be near him
He was the sun
Made you feel warm in his presence.
...
He was the stars, Lighting the night sky.
He was playful
A young Spirit, like his two sons.
His arms, always wanted to be around you
His hugs were heart to heart.
His smile contagious.
He was a river
Making his way down a mountain.
Sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky
But always a welcome drink of water.
He was like a tree
Beautiful in bloom
And solemn when his branches were bare.
He was the word "love"
And used it all the time.
It was a word he purposefully wanted you to hear
And he wanted you to know that is how he felt.
Do you ever recall ending a moment with him
That he didn't say "I Love You"
He was a beautiful painting……Not yet finished.
He was a love song.
Memories of his smile and his warm heart are our gifts from him
As well as his beautiful sons that he has left to our care.
When my heart feels heavy and hurts from longing.
I can hear him telling me "be strong momma"
And I know that now, his river flows in calm water
His stars are even more brilliant
His tree is in full bloom
And his painting is an infinite canvas
Like his spirit.
My Child, I love you and am missing you already.
Written by John's Mother
Nona Leatherwood Maxwell
My Son,
A Gentle Soul, with Tender Heart
You could say…. he was just beautiful in his form.
He was like gravity
Drawing all to be near him
He was the sun
Made you feel warm in his presence.
...
He was the stars, Lighting the night sky.
He was playful
A young Spirit, like his two sons.
His arms, always wanted to be around you
His hugs were heart to heart.
His smile contagious.
He was a river
Making his way down a mountain.
Sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky
But always a welcome drink of water.
He was like a tree
Beautiful in bloom
And solemn when his branches were bare.
He was the word "love"
And used it all the time.
It was a word he purposefully wanted you to hear
And he wanted you to know that is how he felt.
Do you ever recall ending a moment with him
That he didn't say "I Love You"
He was a beautiful painting……Not yet finished.
He was a love song.
Memories of his smile and his warm heart are our gifts from him
As well as his beautiful sons that he has left to our care.
When my heart feels heavy and hurts from longing.
I can hear him telling me "be strong momma"
And I know that now, his river flows in calm water
His stars are even more brilliant
His tree is in full bloom
And his painting is an infinite canvas
Like his spirit.
My Child, I love you and am missing you already.
Written by John's Mother
Nona Leatherwood Maxwell
