Not only did my husband completely agree with this poem, he changed it ever so slightly to make it his own for his elegy!
When I die there will be no stone or grave Look at my art, read a poem, be brave Do not worry about me, I will be recycled soon I am in the stars, the air, the trees, breeze and the moon. Dying is the beginning of our real life. I will be free to zoom and dance and have no strife. When I go, know I will be watching you forever more. For I am your mama, and you I do adore.
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