"DAD, ARE YOU REALLY GONE?"
I am writing these words on a Monday. I've just come from delivering the
message at a funeral for an old friend, a member of the local church...Don's service today was a fitting tribute to a great man. In the foyer just outside, his four grown daughters had created a display that did him proud. But one item stole the show...It was a poem written shortly after he died, by one of his daughters, now a mother herself. As people...stopped to read that centerpiece...virtually every one of them struggled to hold back their tears. Many didn't succeed. I didn't. Here is what we read:
Dad, are you really gone?
I'm certain I was there when you took your last breath.
Yet it seems your life is still speaking so loud and clear.
Are you really gone?
I can see you in my childhood days.
Always taking care of us, letting our lives as children
Be as God intended: carefree, happy and adventurous, joyful.
Are you really gone?
I can see your smile and your fatherly wink
As I feel your familiar and vigorous hug.
I can see the joy in your face as your grandchildren
embrace you and you turn to me without hesitation
And say, "You're a good mother, I'm proud of you."
Are you really gone?
I can see you so clear, a man of God, a devoted father,
A loving husband, a church leader, a friend.
I can hear you say, "It's good to be alive,"
As you enjoy the simple pleasures of life.
Are you really gone?
I can see your Christian influence woven into the decisions of
my life and it is only by your confident example that I can say,
You'll never really be gone from us.
And I can now hear our heavenly Father say to you,
"Welcome, good and faithful servant,
Enter into the joy I have prepared for you."
It doesn't get any better than that. No medal, ribbon, or citation
even remotely compares to the deep, abiding love and respect
of a daughter or son.
_______________________________________________________
Today is ALL SOULS DAY. It is a time for remembering our dearly
departed ones. For as long as our fond memories of them dwell in
us they cannot die -- they are not really gone. In our hearts they are
living still as passing years go by.
I am writing these words on a Monday. I've just come from delivering the
message at a funeral for an old friend, a member of the local church...Don's service today was a fitting tribute to a great man. In the foyer just outside, his four grown daughters had created a display that did him proud. But one item stole the show...It was a poem written shortly after he died, by one of his daughters, now a mother herself. As people...stopped to read that centerpiece...virtually every one of them struggled to hold back their tears. Many didn't succeed. I didn't. Here is what we read:
Dad, are you really gone?
I'm certain I was there when you took your last breath.
Yet it seems your life is still speaking so loud and clear.
Are you really gone?
I can see you in my childhood days.
Always taking care of us, letting our lives as children
Be as God intended: carefree, happy and adventurous, joyful.
Are you really gone?
I can see your smile and your fatherly wink
As I feel your familiar and vigorous hug.
I can see the joy in your face as your grandchildren
embrace you and you turn to me without hesitation
And say, "You're a good mother, I'm proud of you."
Are you really gone?
I can see you so clear, a man of God, a devoted father,
A loving husband, a church leader, a friend.
I can hear you say, "It's good to be alive,"
As you enjoy the simple pleasures of life.
Are you really gone?
I can see your Christian influence woven into the decisions of
my life and it is only by your confident example that I can say,
You'll never really be gone from us.
And I can now hear our heavenly Father say to you,
"Welcome, good and faithful servant,
Enter into the joy I have prepared for you."
It doesn't get any better than that. No medal, ribbon, or citation
even remotely compares to the deep, abiding love and respect
of a daughter or son.
_______________________________________________________
Today is ALL SOULS DAY. It is a time for remembering our dearly
departed ones. For as long as our fond memories of them dwell in
us they cannot die -- they are not really gone. In our hearts they are
living still as passing years go by.
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