CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
Twenty-eight special Christmases
Festive seasons spent with you.
I have such precious memories
Of the things you'd say and do.
Your very first at four months old
Your eyes they shone with glee.
As you waved your arms and kicked your feet
When you saw the lights on the tree.
Throughout your childhood and teenage years
Your excitement and spirit grew.
In the wee morning you'd wake up Jason
Hours of sleep for me were few.
My most precious Christmas memories
Are of those we shared your last year.
You came home to spend some time with us
It seemed we didn't have a care.
You and I shopped and decorated
We had such fun, in everything we'd do.
I was content, I had the world
Because I had Jason and I had you.
But now Christmas is so difficult
And time is hard to bear.
The lights and music make me sad
Because you're no longer here.
I go on because I have to
But today all I'd like to do.
Is to be able to call and say, "luvs ya"
And hear you say, "luvs ya too".
Love, Mom
_______________________________
The Memorial Cross
The memorial cross stands tall and straight
high upon the rocky knoll
In the inscription on the center plaque
there's a tragic story that is told.
How you and your union brother, Gerhard
lost your young lives that fateful night
As you did your jobs working the steel
at the Diavik Diamond Mines work site.
The cross, a symbol of brotherhood and respect
by fellow ironworkers it was made
A symbol to all who see it
of the ultimate price you paid
But we don't need a cross to remind us
of what we lost that night
Our lives have changed forever
without you by our side.
Time is so long without you
though six years have come and gone
We miss you a little more every day
as we struggle to cope and be strong
Our minds always wander back to you
the son/brother we love so dear
We speak of you daily, we smile and we cry
In our hearts you will always be here.
-- Geraldine Wheeler written in memory of her son Greg
_______________________________
Mom
Gentle and loving, always interested in what I do.
You're always quick with the I love you's.
You support everything that I would like to take part,
Driving me to hockey, swimming, never complaining whatever I start.
You do this even though your heart is
broken and always in pain,
You try your best to hide it from me,
but it's truly in vain.
The day the angels came and took my big brother Dwight,
They took with them the life from your eyes and the light,
You continue to smile, but it's a smile of disguise.
I can tell whenever I look in your eyes.
Today on Mother's Day, Mom feel the warmth and love,
Feel Dwight sending you hugs and kisses from heaven above.
You're a survivor, Mom, I know lots of people have said,
But I see you cry at night when you think I'm in bed.
I wish for Mother's Day, I could bring
Dwight back to us for good,
But in my heart I know I can't
I wish so much that I could.
I love you Mom forever, please take my hand,
I'm here beside you as we try to understand.
I know I can't ease the burden that you bear.
I just want you to know, you are loved
so much and I'll always care.
-- Kevin Peel, age 12
_______________________________
Beat The Path Down
It’s hard to believe that your work here is done,
since the day just began.
Did you think there was time left to waste in the sun?
Were you in on the plan?
I stood in the stream where we all cast a line.
Spooned in my measures of reason and rhyme.
Threw in the ashes of innocent times
and I stirred....
Go on ahead; beat the path down
‘Cause my feet are tired, and my boots are torn.
Go on ahead; don’t you think about me.
I’ll find my way through the path that you’ve worn.
It’s so tough to believe in the things that I see
when they won’t take their cues.
I watch all my skys of significant shades
turn oblivious blues.
Down at the place where we turned over rocks,
Spied on the herons and red-shouldered hawks,
Waved as simplicity left with the flocks
in the fall...
Go on ahead; beat the path down
‘Cause my feet are tired, and my boots are torn.
Go on ahead; don’t you think about me.
I’ll find my way through the path that you’ve worn.
(So sun lay low and winds may blow
and fears slow my stride
I’ll courage forth, ‘cause I know True North
and I couldn’t get lost if I tried.)
You went on ahead, beat the path down
‘cause my feet are tired, and my boots are torn.
Go on ahead; don’t you think about me.
I’ll find my way through the path that you’ve worn.
- Kathy Evans is a St. Catharines, Ontario, musician, who wrote this song in memory of her brother Mike, who was killed in a workplace accident in Toronto
on September 11, 2000, at the age of 37.
_______________________________
I think that I would talk with you
I know that if you were here it would be better.
But would I talk with you?
All these things I wish I knew
That I wish you were here to teach me.
I don't want to learn the harder way
Alone or from others who are less
You are my hero
You outlasted terrible things
You failed before you succeeded
You are my hero
I wanted to be like you when I was a little girl
I still am a little girl
You are my brother; my older brother
The big brother who is a protector
I know you can protect me better from there
But I would rather have less protection with you here
You weren't supposed to go
It was too early
I should have come to grips with it
I should understand that it is wrong to wish you back
That I had gone not you
I know there is some greater reason that you left
That we were here and you were gone
So far and so long gone
And me here, who cannot cry or feel what I need
I have a heart of ice
What was broken when you left has not healed, it froze
No one sees, they are too far gone
The ones who could see are gone
The ones who can't see are not responsible for their blindness
They do not know
They cannot know
I fancy myself an accomplished actress
I can hide myself, my true self
Which in hiding it becomes my untrue self
Why are you not here to find my true self
And make it shine
It was the wrong time
It was a good time
A time now spoiled forever
Now gone forever
I don't know what to do
Angry, so very angry.
-- Laura Deyell, who lost her brother to a workplace
fatality, Her mother Marj is a
member of the Threads of Life Speakers Bureau.
|
