Final Days- Hospice 2-26-02

He was angry when they came And said he wouldn’t go. “You can’t make me leave this house!” “I’ll fight you all, you know!” He spread his arms like giant wings As if they were set to soar, And grabbed the facing either side, To hold himself in the door. Mom clinched tired eyes and dabbed her tears. She tried to say a prayer. She knew that once her mate was gone, Only she’d be there. When we broke his iron-like grip He took a final look At what a man could call his own. And remembered the work it took. Friends stopped by to visit him. Buster, his Best Man was one. He smiled as they recollected The days when they were young. Robert and I, at Dad’s request, Sung the chorus of “For the Good Times”. Ray Price was his favorite— And he smiled, a final time.