Tribute

"Death is a teacher."

I saw it three times.

First was on the street
Second was at the hospital
And third was in a church...

"Prince of Peace Church" was it's name
I walked down the aisle and touched the wood of the seats. Hard.
and I saw the orange, yellow, and pink flowers tied to green stilts.
"To our beloved ___."
and i saw the box. A box with brass handles. A box with brass handles that held the peaceful man of God. He no longer had to fight; he no longer had to suffer.

I fought back the tears
of the many years
of his love and kindness.

We are hurting. But he no longer is.

"To his family, we knew him to be a generous and caring man..."

But a thousand tears I wept.

"We lift his soul up to you, God..."

and I clutched my heart. I gulped down big gulps of air, in an attempt to relax my strained throat.

I fought back the tears
of the many years
of his love and kindness.

How could we find solace in this chapel with more than hundreds dressed in black?

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I snatched at the tissue box but, put it back down. I knew it would not stop the tears.

I stepped up to the box with brass handles, and I said to The man of God; my friend, teacher, .....my Grandfather:

"Trust in the Lord. Rest In Peace. If death is a teacher, then you have taught me everything."
With love,
-Isaac