I can't imagine you buried in the brown ground, cold and dark with only a six year death  as a companion.

It makes me shudder. It gives me chills. How can my mind get a grip on this? How can I really accept your death?

Your pain crowded your life for so long. The suffering was a tremendous stretch of years.

Oh, how they must have seemed to go on for infinity.

You never made a wish for the end. You had work to do still here.

I know you must have felt it but, you never showed fear.

You put your brave make up on and taught us all how to be couragous  and not complain no matter what life may or may not grant us or how the rhythm of the clock ticks on, moving us forward in time, weighing and measuring our lives with a spoon inch by inch.

What can we make of it?

Time passes so quickly and takes no prisoners.

What is stolen from us is also found and returned in our memory.

Our phsyical beings  will be long gone one day, having disintegrated  away while what is left of us is what we made of our lives here.

They are only impressions left on earth be they faint or defined, positive or negative.

What you left for the survivors cannot be seen, felt or heard but, merely understood.

Living takes courage and not everyone has all they need to live well and find meaning.

Not all share your vision or have found dreams, for them they go through  a waking sleep or living death, though they still have breath.

They know not that they have killed themselves long ago. Simply allowing their lives to go stagnant and become as lifeless as the Dead Sea, as your still body your soul has left long ago and married to the earth.

Your life we only borrowed and it had to be returned.