Over three weeks ago, I wrote this: (I was really feeling alone…can you tell???)
Nobody really wants to hear
And no one wants to see my fear
Or get wet from a falling tear
Or get wet from a falling tear. . .
I’m waiting for the axe to fall
I’m waiting for the sad, sad call
To tell we’ve lost him after all
To tell we’ve lost him after all. . .
Oh, pain, walk softly on my heart
A sad, sad song begins to start
That says the time has come to part
That says the time has come to part. . .
I hoped this day would stay its hand
The hour glass would hold its sand
No summons yet from Heavenland–
No summons yet from Heavenland. . .
I think of Heaven’s brightest light
And that there will be no more night
And that what’s there is good and right–
And that what’s there is good and right. . .
I hold the hurt, the pain, the grief
wrapped in the warmth of my belief.
And know where there is sweet relief —
And know where there is sweet relief. . .
MARK B. YODER, Sr.
HOME FREE — Dec. 18, 2005
Oh, Daddy, how we shall miss you!