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.
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