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1991: My Mother's Funeral

The organ played the psalm unto the grieving somehow to balm the feelings of the living as though no dark deceiver had come thieving. Memories are the gift that keeps on giving; questions have no hope of ever relieving. Could I have been a better son when living? Supposed regrets come visit as a greeting to stab us in the heart before retreating.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 7/23/2017 12:56:00 PM
A piercingly poignant write Dale.
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Date: 7/23/2017 7:01:00 AM
No regrets Dale. Wouldn't do any good if you did. Can't second guess yourself. Obviously from the poem you loved your mother and I'm sure she loved you. Just cherish your memories. I am sorry for your loss:(
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Date: 7/22/2017 6:43:00 PM
I completely understand this poem of yours Dale, with such loss, we can easily look back questioning. I hope you can embrace the good memories. Take care.
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Date: 7/22/2017 6:08:00 PM
I am so sorry for your loss Dale it may be many years that has passed but you still have precious memories and I know what a caring compassionate man you are.. she would be so proud:-) hugs jan xx
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Date: 7/22/2017 5:36:00 PM
She will always be apart of you. Be happy, that's all a mother wants for a child.
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