I have an old wooden file cabinet that needs some serious clean out. So my chore during spring break is to start sorting and purging. As I give thought to the things I have put in there over the years there is one item that I know that I need to hold on to so I can pass it on to the boys.
Gary's mother passed away in 1986. Their relationship was strained much of the time. Not long after she died he brought me a stack of three small note papers stapled together. The writing on it was done with a variety of pencil and pens. There He asked me to read it and I was so surprised. I had no idea that he had the talent. He had written a poem. He told me that he started it long before his mother's death but decided to finish it soon after. He had carried it in his wallet for quite a while. I still have that stack of paper but did transfer the poem onto something that can be shared. I want to share it with you. I am just so proud of him.
As I look out across the fields of snow,
I can't help but remember of times long ago.
When, as children, Love to us was a lick from a pup,
And happiness was found in a hot cocoa cup.
Every day was expected to be there, and on time,
And even the tooth fairy was to drop off a dime.
But we grow older with every breath,
And get stared at by the face of death.
So we must push aside that that grumbles us,
And live each day with no real fuss.
For down the road comes the judgement day.
And we should all be able to say
We would not have lived our life a different way.