Sometimes, in order to get to heaven you must go through hell. God gives us a little bit of Hell on earth, but offers you Heaven for eternity. All you have to do is believe with your heart and confess with your soul, and Jesus will be your savior. Believe and have faith, because God wont prove He exists, for proof denies faith and without faith God is nothing. Don't question His work on earth, trust Him with all of your heart and soul, and you have nothing to fear, for He is the only one who will always be there for you.
When your scared and when you feel there's nothing worth going on for, nothing worth enduring this pain for, imagine yourself on Judgment Day, when you stand before the Lord and are required to list what your accomplishments on earth, then you will be able to look back on those horrible days, when all you really wanted to do was end the pain, and say "I survived that and that and that!", and the Lord will look down on you and smile warmly and open his arms for you and say "I'm proud of you".
That was reason enough for me to go on, isn't it for you? Don't forget God will walk you through step by step, He loves you no matter what, all He asks is a little bit of faith and trust in Him, and He will offer you Paradise for eternity, what's 80 years of life on earth in comparison? And don't forget God never dumps more on us then we can handle. So, don't disappoint Him, He believes in you if no one else does; hang in there and sing "I will survive!"
Ilona E., Age 17 --- NSW, Australia
"Cowards die many deaths; the brave but once."
Author Unknown Submitted by Ebby R. --- Ontario, Canada
I'LL SEE YOU AGAIN
I looked at you once my friend-
And saw my dreams in your eyes,
Felt my spirit in your heart-
We were like one soul in two bodies.
Come any hardship, tear, or argument,
You'd be there, and so would I.
With every joy, smile, or celebration,
We'd share everything with each other.
I never imagined a day without hearing your voice,
Seeing you smile, laughing and crying with you.
But all of the sudden, you were gone.
Everything had changed in my life-
You took a part of me with you.
'It's not fair!' I would scream,
'Why did she leave me?'
I thought I could never smile again,
But I remembered you saying -
"Always be strong."
So, I lifted my head,
And moved on.
But, not a day passes
When I don't think of you.
My friend -
I'll never find another like you.
Now when I reach out,
You are not there.
My eyes have not met yours in years,
But I can feel you -
I know you're here with me.
I wish it didn't have to end,
But I know one day-
I'll see you again.
Turn your head and look at me
Face the fact on what you see.
You never knew how much it grew...
The pain inside that knows what you're going through.
You turned your head and looked away.
Are you afraid of what I'd say?
Face the fact that I am here.
Look at me and you'll see it clear.
I'll hold your hand,
You'll make it through...
Don't look back,
I'm here for you.
Written by Cathy J., 1992
Having come from a family of 7 brothers and 4 sisters, I have already lost 4 brothers, my mother and father. It is never easy to deal with the grief, however, we can try to put it into perspective. If you are GOD fearing and believe in Heaven, then it's a bit easier to accept this.
When you consider that ONE HUNDRED years on Earth is relative to ONE MINUTE in Eternity (Heaven), then it's a little bit easier to think in the realm that we won't be "too far behind." Yes, we may miss our loved one's dearly, and we may think that many years will go by before we see them again. But if you use the analogy stated earlier, we can silently pray for our missed ones, and gently whisper: "I'll be with you in a minute!"
For them, it'll be like they went inside a restaurant as we parked the car and caught up with them before they were seated. It's just a matter of minutes in eternal time.
I ran across this poem in old papers belonging to my grandmother/great aunt. It was cut out of a magazine (only the word "magazine" was left at the top of the clipping.)The bottom of the clipping shows Norfolk, Co., Mass., April 15, 1905. I thought it was something that should be shared.
Mother, dear Mother, we laid you to rest,
In the valley so lone and still,
With flowers and cypress arranged on your breast,
By the side of a murmuring rill.
The zephyrs breathe sweetly among the green boughs,
That wave o'er your lone narrow bed;
And the sunlight falls softly amid the green leaves
That rustle and nod o'er your head.
Mother, dear Mother, our home is so sad,
Where lately your loved form was known.
And dreary, and lonely, and dull is the hearth,
Where the light of your countenance shone.
And your voice once was music to fond loving hearts,
But now it is silent and still;
Oh, sadly we've turned in our sorrow and pain,
From your grave at the foot of the hill.
Mother, dear Mother, your place at our hearth
Can never, no never be filled;
We miss you at morning, at noon and at night,
With a pain that can hardly be stilled.
The toil-hardened hands that are folded to rest,
The smile that was tender and sweet;
The eyes that oft beamed with affection and love,
The presence that made home complete.
Mother, dear Mother, you've passed from this life
To the home of the pure and the blest;
You've left far behind you the toil and the strife,
And have entered the mansions of rest.
But the fond, loving lessons and precepts you taught,
Forever will live in the heart,
Till we meet you at last on the bright golden shore,
In a land where we never shall part.
I love you so. You found me in a basement apartment; I was feeding my child. There I was, sad in my addiction, not knowing what to do. I was sick and you picked me up you took me to your home. You helped me look after myself and my son.
You loved me, and I loved you. You showed me what to do. Some times I would not listen; I am sorry. My son called you dad; he loved you so much. It hurts now you're not here for Stewart and I to touch. It didn't work out for us; you could not stay, I know you loved us, I know because you told me. I saw the way you played with Stewart, they way your eyes lit up when he called you dad.
I know now you are here, in our hearts. I feel you when I am having a hard time. You keep me going, because I want you to be proud of me, everyday. We won't ever forget you Tim, I miss you in the biggest way! One day I will come to meet you in the sky.
In memory with love,
I would like to dedicate this in loving memory of my dad Lewis Grace . He died February 3, 1999, at home. We miss him a whole lot. This poem was read at his funeral and it brought us comfort at a time when we needed it. Even now, it is still a comfort to read. If my dad could talk to his family I believe this is what he'd say.
I know he is with Jesus now in heaven and someday I will be too! I know his prayer would be for his family and friends to pray and accept Jesus as their Savior has he did .And when the time comes for them to die he'll be there as the poem says to say "WELCOME HOME!"
"Daddy we love you!"
TO THOSE I LOVE AND TO THOSE WHO LOVE ME
When I am gone release me let me go.
I have so many things to see and do.
You mustn't tie yourself to me with tears,
Be thankful for our many beautiful years
I gave to you my love.
You can only guess
How much you gave to me in happiness,
I thank you for the love you each have shown,
But now it's time I traveled on alone.
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must,
Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
It's only for a time that we must part,
So bless the memories within your heart.
I won't be far away, for life goes on.
So if you need me, call and I will come,
Though you can't see or touch me, I'll be near.
And if you listen with your heart, you'll hear
All my love around you soft and clear.
And then, when you must come this way alone,
I'll greet you with a smile and say~
Author Unknown Submitted by Valerie Slayton --- Alabama
I hope this story helps someone or many who has lost a loved one in their life. If it does, then that made it all worth talking about. To lose someone you love, words can't explain, but to know they are with God and our Jesus is all the comfort needed.
When my dad died in 1996, it tore me up. I kept up being strong for my mom, sister's, and brother's sakes. They have always thought of me as the strong one, but trying to be strong tore me up inside. I was there at the hospital with my mom, sister, and brother when dad passed away.
It looked as if they were pumping the poison out of my father just before he passed away. Dad was in a coma. They said he wasn't in any pain, but his face had pain on it. I know it did, just before he died. The look on his face kept me awake night after night. Finally I realized Dad was with God; no more suffering, no more pain. That's all that kept me from having a nervous breakdown.
My dad was a true believer in God and so am I. I pray ever night and thank God for all good things in my life. If I need him to give me strength from the stress of everyday problems, I ask him in prayer. At the end of my prayers each night, I say good night to my dad and tell him I love him. God hears prayers. I know; he has heard and answered a lot of mine. He will listen. Talk to him. He will help you too, Ask in the precious name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. You will be able to handle your grief a lot better with the help of God our Heavenly Father.
Yesterday I spoke at a funeral of a young girl that I have known for almost two years. In spite of being terminally ill, she always had a smile and would do whatever she could to help anyone. Her seventh birthday was spent in hospital and her friends came to visit. Liberty, the young girl, was fully aware of the implications of her condition, but her friends were carefree children and they spent their afternoon together talking about their plans for the future.
Liberty's future was already planned. When her friends talked of planning their weddings, Liberty had an idea that she shared with me a few days later. She wanted to plan her special day, her funeral.
The memory of this brave young girl will live on in the hearts of everyone whose life she touched and I wanted to share her final wishes in the hope that they may give some comfort or understanding to someone else out there.
Speaking at her funeral was one of the hardest things I have done and I know that no words could have done her justice. This was the message:
LIBERTY Stands for Freedom and Independence
Liberty Carlton stood for this and so much more. Seven-year-old Liberty stood for freedom, independence, strength, love, happiness, faith, peace, friendship and, more than anything, LIFE. Seven years of life may not sound long but Liberty couldn't have lived or loved anymore if she had had a hundred and seven years.
That was her biggest fault; she had so much love to give and so much good to do, yet so little time. But nevertheless, everything that she did, she did with a smile. Everywhere she went, she had a spring in her step and a twinkle in her eyes. In spite of everything, I only ever saw her cry once; when she was six and the newspaper reported that her favorite pop group was splitting up.
So what gives us the right to cry now? We all know that Liberty didn't want it; she told us that herself. She may have been young in years but I have met 40 year olds with less maturity than her. She was well aware of what 'real life' was like and she never shied away from it, in the same way that she never shied away from death.
Three days after her seventh birthday she asked me for a favor with that mischievous grin and quick little wink that no one could ever refuse; she asked me to help her to plan 'her day'. She smiled the whole time that we talked that day, not a false or forced smile but a smile from the heart, a smile so strong that it broke my heart.
She told me how her other friends planned their wedding days, how they wanted everything to be perfect on 'their day'. She told me that 'her day' was different. It wouldn't be a wedding day but she still wanted everything to be perfect.
She wanted blue roses. She wanted a turquoise dress. She wanted music. She wanted everyone she knew and loved to be there. She wanted smiles. She wanted bright outfits and new hats. She wanted laughter. She wanted candles. She wanted dancing. She wanted happy memories.
I stand here today, on Her Day, and give her the smile that she wanted and I ask you all to join with me. Share a light with each other and hold your candles as we stand together and sing her favorite song. The song we sang was "Masterplan" by Oasis, and everyone smiled through their tears as a mass of flickering candles lit the church. Seven, her favorite number, dyed blue roses were dropped onto the small white casket as we said our final goodbyes. She will never be forgotten.
Too seldom have I crossed paths with another who has had the capability to make an impact on my life. I tend to choose my friends and loved ones carefully and don't invite many into my heart.
Terry is one of the few I have allowed to enter. With her my heartgates have swung wide open. We share many hours of the day together and on one day in particular comes to mind.
The fishing was slow that early spring morning. Crappies and bass had been seen swimming in the sun-drenched shallows. Terry threads on an artificial purple worm and gazes out at the water. Her lure nearly caught the back of my cap as she cast aimlessly over-handed. "Terry, what are ya thinkin' about buddie?" "Awwww Chrissy, I was just thinking how Ma would have loved it here by the pond. She could have just sat here by the pond not fishing or anything and would've had the best time. Oh, now I wish."
Terry's voice quietly trailed off. I had just been thinking the same thing about my mother. She loved my modest little house on the hill with the pond below. Mom and I always loved sharing the simplest things in life. I know Terry well enough to know she was thinking similar thoughts of her mamma too. Seems like Terry and I think a lot of the same thoughts lately.
We had both said "farewell" to our mother's the same year. Her mother and my mother died within six months of one another. Terry and I live less than two miles apart in a very small Ohio town. We ate in the same neighborhood restaurant and shopped the local IGA, yet we had never met. We like to believe that our Mothers, in some way, brought us together. Our friendship seems to be heaven sent.
"Tell me what you wish." I gently urged." "I wish our moms had known each other before. They would've become best friends just like we are now."
"Yeah, that would have been really cool. What fun the four of us could've had!"
"Well, it's a wonderful thought and who's to say they aren't."
Terry smiled. The hook whizzed close to my ear another time and we decided that this wasn't a good fishing day anyway. "Hey Chrissy, lets paddle over to the far shore and have our lunch. We can just sit and reminisce and munch."
"That's a great idea Terry! I wanted to discuss something with you anyway."
I grinned. "Now I'm worried." She grinned back. At that moment I wondered if that sweet smile was a mirror of her mother's. She had told me often of her mother's special smile. Somehow I knew the answer without having to ask her the question. Terry's smile, like her friendship, was priceless.
The row across the pond seemed to take longer than usual as we both sat quietly lost in our own memories. The breeze was as gentle as I had remembered my mother's touch. I was hoping that Terry was having pleasant memories too. The front of the boat nosed into the muddy bank with a jolt. I tied the boat to a small evergreen as we proceeded to unload the picnic lunch we would share.
"I'll grab the fried chicken and the potato chips if you get the cooler." Terry called out.
"No problem. Just pick a spot and I'll join you as soon as I secure our boat. I sure don't want to have to swim back to the other shore in this cold water."
"Good plan! I don't feel much like swimming either!"
With the blanket spread out and enough food for a family reunion we once again began to speak about our mothers. It was nice that we could share our hearts and our deepest feelings. So many times we try to talk to our family and other friends but they just don't seem to understand. Was it because Terry and I shared several similar bonds? Both of us had been very close to our mothers and some days the loss we felt was nearly unbearable.
How do you explain the emptiness when you find yourself without your mother, your best friend? How did we justify to the others when we feel blue and the tears come without an invitation?
"Chrissy, does the pain ever get better? I thought when we shared our feelings that it would all go away, it would get easier. I read someplace that, 'a problem shared is a problem halved,' or something like that." Terry said with a heavy sigh. She looked like a small child as her bright blue eyes looked deep into mine.
I found myself silently asking myself, "How can I answer that? I wondered what my mother would have said." That day was one of the many in the past year that Terry and I spend "remembering" our moms. We shared many of their hopes and dreams with each other. Terry is one of the strongest women I know. She provides me with daily inspiration. I remember her telling me that she feels a lot of her strengths she gained from her mother.
Her mother quit school in the ninth grade to help support her family. Nearly all her earnings were spent helping feed the younger two sisters. She continued to help support the family until the time she moved to Florida to become a bride. Her husband-to-be was in the air force and the war was raging they wanted to start a family together. This was a big step since all throughout her life she was told that she was "too stupid to do anything."
Soon after the wedding he was transferred to England and she was left alone with a baby on the way. They decided that she should move back to Ohio and stay with her in-laws who were old and ailing. The house was cold and drafty and a small heater had been used to warm the home. Venting was not adequate and she found herself over come with carbon monoxide along with her mother and father in-law.
Unfortunately she was the only survivor. Losing the baby, along with her in-laws, just re-enforced what she had been told all of her life. Because of the loss, her husband was reassigned to the states. Soon she found herself pregnant again.
It takes a lot of strength and courage to lose a child. The determination to have a family was especially burdensome since she had been deaf since she was two. Her faith allowed her to reach deep inside to find the strength, courage and love she needed to continue with her dream.
A woman who had six pregnancies in six years gave birth to only four of them. Terry was the last... the baby. A mother's unfaltering love remained true during the hard times and the abuse. The children grew and eventually left home.
She was pleased that each of her four children had the opportunity to have graduated from high school. (A dream that she would one day accomplished her self at the young age of 66.) Two of her children went on to college, one went to the Navy and retired after twenty years of dedication and one daughter married and raised a family. She was proud of all her children and even more proud of her seven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.
Terry was raised to be strong and independent. She wanted to be wild and free and experience all that life had to offer...things that her mother had never had the opportunity to explore. In Terry she instilled patience, independence and the ability to realize her own self worth.
April 1997, at the age of forty-five, Terry settled for the security and the stability that comes along with marriage. Her mother was pleased with her decision to settle down and with the one she chose to settle with. September 1997 Terry received a message that her
mother had suffered a stroke. Neither of their lives were ever the same again.
Terry cared for her mother for the next eight months until the time came that she could no longer provide her with the care she needed. Terry had been witness to her mother being a caregiver for years to her siblings and other family members and knew the responsibilities were sometimes impossible The only recourse was to place her mother in a nursing home where she lived the next six weeks. This time a daughter's unfaltering love remained true just as her mother's did for her.
"Chrissy, do you ever think they may have been separated at birth?" Terry questioned. I could only join in her laughter. We often comment how similar our mothers were.
My mother had been in an orphanage until the age of ten so I suppose anything could've been possible. Her own mother placed her there because she was unwanted and abused. Mom would tell me stories of how she was beaten with anything and everything. I thought parenting skills were learned but I know that isn't true. My mother was loving and gentle and certainly had no role model in her parents.
I learned many things from Mamma. She had many gifts and talents. I feel her greatest gift to me was unconditional love. I was shown that love is a blessing not to be demanded but earned. She helped me develop the gift of love to pass along to my children.
"Doni-Mae" was a remarkable woman. I grew up admiring her strengths and learning from her weaknesses. She demonstrated patience as she taught me to read and write at four years old. Mom worked side by side with daddy on the farm from sun up to sun down and I never once heard her complain about the hard work.
I learned that hard work had its rewards. I witnessed her devotion, as she loved dad exclusively for forty plus years. Her faith never wavered as she faced sickness and hardship. Perhaps loving too much was her greatest weakness.
Even at the moment of death, she worried about me and not about herself. With her last breath she gave me strength to take her position as the family matriarch. She never would let us say "goodbye" she asked us to say "later."
Mamma is just a sweet memory but her teachings guide me each day of my life. Her love and teachings reside within my heart... forever and always.
There was a chill in the air as we begin to pack up to head back across the pond. The bright sun was creeping behind the willows but a poem fills my head and I take time to write the words. Maybe just for the simple fact that I was "Missing Mamma".
The sun came up this morning
It wasn't very bright
My dark mood cast a shadow
It's hard to see the light.
We all have just one mother
And, now her life is done
The emptiness and loss I feel
Makes it hard to see the sun.
Tomorrow is a brand new day
May the pain and sadness lighten
I will remember all her love
And, the sky will brighten.
Gone is not forgotten
Her love remains behind
She's traveled in a new direction
Love knows no space or time.
I will always love her
She will guide me from above
She will send me starlight and rainbows
To remind me of her love.
The gifts we receive from those we love can not be measured only treasured. We each possess the ability to display many gifts and talents but sometimes we need others to share them with in order to develop them.
I choose these 'others' cautiously but occasionally one does come along who knows the weakest link in the chain and therefore has access to my heart.
I look up and ask, "Hey Terry, what was your momma's name?"
She replied, " I just called her Ma".
I have just recently been introduced to this website by a friend, and I find it very motivating! She wanted me to come to this page in an attempt to show me how much I have to live for. I will now submit my story.
Ever since the age of 9, I have been suffering from an Eating Disorder. It started off as anorexia, and I was a very sick little girl. My mother got me help, and I seemingly got better after about a year or a bit longer.
7th grade came along, and I then began to battle bulimia. This lasted for a couple of years, and surprisingly enough, no one knew...which is a bad thing now that I look back on it. I eventually tapered off, and didn't have anything severe for a while.
My junior year, the anorexia decided to come back and haunt me (diseases like these have a mind of their own and will eventually control your life). I became physically ill, but even more so, very ill in the emotional sense. I once again got help, and it seemed as though I was getting better.
In the middle of my senior year, I started up with my bulimia again. I did everything from throwing up to taking numerous amounts of laxatives. No one knew about this, I hid it very well. I still looked the same weight as I was before, and it seemed as if I was okay. Now, I am a freshman in college, and I have finally been able to admit to myself that I have a problem.
I never really considered this to be a problem, and if I did, I didn't think that it was a serious one at that. It's funny, because once you can admit to yourself that something is wrong with you, you look at the world so much differently.
I now only see a person's strength, instead of their weakness. But the most important thing that I have learned is what I am about to say.
If you don't love yourself, you have no right to love somebody else. You were brought into this world alone, and you will leave this world alone. No one lives in your head day in and day out but you. I guess what I am trying to say is the fact that the most important
thing that a person needs is self love. You must love yourself in order to love someone else...because if you don't, you don't know what true love is.
The first love we need is the love we give to ourselves. It took me 9 long years to come to this conclusion, but I am glad that I have realized this before it was too late. I may still
be a bulimic, but I am trying to get better. I believe that when I love myself, I will be rid of this illness, and I will have more love to give than I could ever have imagined!
On December 23, 1998 my grandfather died of colon cancer at the age of 64. It was really hard on the family but for me I was confused and was asking many questions. I thought that I had done something and God was punishing me for it, but as my explained it was just his time to go.
He had colon cancer for past 7 years, and never went to check it out even thought he had the symptoms. I got really mad and just cried. They said he had another 6 months to live and during that 6 months I saw him at least 2 times a month because he lived 2 hours away.
I would go down and spend the weekend with him and grandma. Then he had passed away. I never really cried that much. I cried when I found out he had cancer and cried the day he died and the day of the funeral. I didn't know my grandpa that well. I regret never crying more to let him know I cared.
I didn't want to go up and see him lying there in his coffin. It was scary. He was smiling but I knew I had to go see him because it would be the last time I ever saw him again. I went up and blew him a kiss and walked away.
Now these days I cry all the time for him before I go to bed. It is not healthy for me I know, I just regret never doing anything about it. I miss my grandpa very much and I leave him cards at his new home and will put flowers down for him and just chat with him.
Both of my parents were diagnosed with cancer in 1992, and they both passed away in 1993 within 6 weeks of each other.
When my father passed away, my mother was lying on the couch and saw two round lights in the corner of the room positioned in such a way they could not be car lights entering the room late at night. She thought those lights to be the angels of heaven coming to take my
father to his final resting place.
Afraid, she immediately closed her eyes, but told me and my husband about her experience the next day. After she told me of this, I would lie in bed at night and pray for the lights to present themselves to me in hopes of reassuring me my father was alright. To my despair, this did not happen.
Six weeks later, when my mother passed away and everyone had left the house for the night, my husband and I went to bed to try to rest. I laid down, closed my eyes, and then my eyes popped open and I saw an amazing white light that shown down from the attic, down the wall, covered the floor, and moved down the hall as if exiting the home.
I spoke up to my husband, and said, "Randy", and before I could say another word, he said, "what was that"? He saw it too. It was the GATES of HEAVEN opening up to my mother, and it was my mother's way of letting us know she was at home finally with my father.
Even though I lost both of my parents to cancer and death, this was truly an amazing experience to have shared with my husband and God.
If no one believes in God before reading this story, I truly hope you will reconsider and know that God does exist and he presents himself to people in many different ways.
C.A. Submitted by A..C --- North Carolina
This is about my friend, he died on New Years Eve 2000. We visited him (a complete fire crew, truck and all) on New Years Eve morning; no one believed it when they told us they didn't think he'd make through the day. The hospital is in another town. It was by God that we had that call that morning, to assist that town. I was at a party when my pager went off, there was no siren, the message was to say that he 'had passed away'. He is missed by many. His family is bigger than his immediate family ever knew. He was a mountain of a man.
My neighbor died today
He is a fireman like me
Now there is nothing to say
He had a big heart
We are volunteer firemen
I got to know him cause at different times
We worked in the same remote places in Northland New Zealand
Here I've been an ambulance officer for years
That was the second bond
Then I became a fireman
I wish I still had a heart of stone.
But love will always stay the same."
Author Unknown Submitted by Jitta M., Age 14 --- Hawaii
Though the pain and grief of losing someone close to us, never completely goes away, remembering the specialness of that person, helps keep them alive in the heart and helps to lessen the grief, over time. It's only been a year since my son, Jeff, died unexpectedly, and though it is still hard to believe and still hurts, the memories of what made him so unique to us, help to heal our hearts.
WHEN I REMEMBER
When I remember,
It'll be brown eyes and wild hair,
A smile so wide and bright,
You knew he was there.
When I remember,
It'll be warm, strong hugs,
Drinking black, strong coffee
Out of enormous mugs.
When I remember,
It'll be talking late at night,
Trying to get this life thing,
Just exactly right.
When I remember,
It'll be working side by side,
Jumping in his pickup,
Going for a ride.
When I remember,
It'll be shouting words of fun
With a brother and two sisters,
Not quitting til HE'D won.
When I remember,
It'll be music blasting loud,
Building another speaker
With his chest puffed out, so proud.
When I remember,
It'll be love in every touch.
How he loved his family and friends,
How he's missed so very much.
When I remember,
There'll be a place in my heart
That, even with these memories,
There's still an empty part.
So, when I remember
All the things in us he left,
I'll also remember the joy
In having a son named Jeff.
My dad suddenly died when I was only 12. Ever since then I've had a hard time dealing with things in my life. I turned to poetry a couple of years ago. While I know he will never come back, these poems have been a way
for me to try and move on. This one's for you dad.
Losing the ones you love
Without getting to say your good-byes
Having life slip away
Right before your eyes
Not being able to control
The way you feel or act
Wishing you could be little again
But knowing you can't go back
You've grown up now
Things will never be the same
It's time to move on with life
And deal with the pain
Because it's useless
To dwell on things like the past
People will come and go
But the memories will always last
So remember the good times
And all the fun you had
Though it may be hard
Life can go on, even without a dad.