Today I feel more conversant with the memory of my husbands last days than usual, so I wrote a poem. Although I may not be considered a poet, I still feel conversant with his memory.
A MEMORY afraid to forget
Some die soft and others die-hard.
You left me with a heart scarred.
His Will was to call you home
His Will left me all alone.
Your words to me were bravely spoken
Today I understand the words foretoken.
“It’s Gods Will,” you said over and over.
“Please lend me a prayer,” and moreover;
“What did our priest just say to me?”
Words I just couldn’t foresee.
“Our children will now care for you,”
He knew they would follow through.
Now that it’s been five long years
What I do best are shedding tears.
I Believe, BECAUSE - 
There are actually a variety of details like that to take into consideration. That could be a great point to carry up. I offer the thoughts above as basic inspiration however clearly there are questions like the one you bring up where a very powerful thing shall be working in sincere good faith. I don?t know if finest practices have emerged round things like that, but I’m positive that your job is clearly identified as a fair game. Both girls and boys really feel the impact of just a moment’s pleasure, for the rest of their lives.
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I really enjoy examining on this site, it has superb content.
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Beautiful last line.
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Thank you, Frank, I appreciate that!
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Reblogged this on Sharing With Others – and commented:
Today I feel especially missing him. What I loved most about him was he let me be me.
I noticed on dVerse that one was invited to share a poem, just any poem, so I chose this one of which is a repeat of this past February 23.
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This is so very sad but I am glad that you can express yourself through poetry – I know it helps a little.
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