An old poem

Eulogy

I sat beside the fragile frame that bore me into life
and asked the One who formed us both, who'd made her Mom, and wife,
And sister, aunt, and cousin, and to many, faithful friend,
to somehow grant her healing, and not let her life end.

My hurting heart He comforted with thoughts that I've long known:
the body's but a sacred shack for those He's made his own,
that He loves her far more than I and, though her work is done,
that He will never separate those souls who trust His Son.

I asked the Lord that He would please not leave me here without
this one who, from the outset, helped me through my times of doubt.
And He reminded me of you He's blessed me with today.
He said, "Your life is filled with love I'll always send your way."

I sat beside this empty shell, the pain gone from her face.
At last her features were restored with peaceful, loving grace.
Her life had been a gift to me, now death a blessing, too.
And in that silent, peace-filled room remained one thing to do.

I whispered, "Mom . . . I love you."

And heard back, "I love you, too."