It’s too easy for us to forget how fragile life is. 3 hours to live, last rites being read. The critical care room allows two, yet dozens packed in the name of love & respect.
Like he did, we still shake every hand. Words pour out in the darkness, believe and be born again.
It’s okay to lead with words. Act now, even prayers build strength. He blessed us in return, more time with him.
I still feel the moment he stared back at me standing by the foot of the bed. Clarity and a last kiss on the cheek, “life goes on my son.”
Give your pains and sorrows up, we lose sight of the sacrifices – their hard work, life, and blood.
When we all stand together, hand in hand; we will rise once more.