Until we meet again, my life is a poem in your memory.
I’m sending you these few lines by way of prayer mail. No stamp required. I will be writing to you from time to time, and in my heart I shall feel your reply. I’m sure you have been watching me shed these tears of mine. They only seem to fall when I try to hold a conversation with you. Today I am reflecting on all we once shared, from the good to the not so good. Because of the love our parents instilled in us, we couldn’t stay upset with one another for too long. I’m not sure if you were able to see the cards I sent you. I hope they were beside your hospital bed when you opened your eyes. Along with them, I sent a prayer each day. Each day I would call on the Lord on your behalf, since He holds the key to all we have. My request and prayer were simple: let His will be done. So when I got the news that the Lord called you home to be with Him, I felt something in my heart like a sharp pain, and as fast as it came, it passed. I heard the Lord speak to me and say, “My will has been done.” In your new home, there is no grass for you to cut, no pool to clean, and not one dish for you to wash. By the way, gas is still pricey, lol. I’m telling you this because you don’t have to worry about any of these things anymore. Until we meet again, my life is a poem in your memory. Long live Geno.
