Anon

The death of each of us is in the order of things; it follows 

life as surely as night follows day. We can take the tree of 

life as a symbol. The human race is the trunk and 

branches of this tree, and individual men and women are 

the leaves which appear one season, flourish for a 

summer and then die. I too am like a leaf on this tree and 

one day I shall be torn off by a storm, or I shall simply 

decay and fall and mingle with the earth at it’s roots. But, 

while I live I am conscious of the tree’s flowing sap and 

steadfast strength. Deep down in my consciousness is 

the consciousness of a collective life, a life of which I 

am a part as to which I make a minute but unique 

contribution. When I die and fall, the tree remains 

nourished to some small degree by my manifestation of 

life. Millions of leaves have preceded me and millions will 

follow me; but the tree itself grows and endures.

Don’t remember me with sadness,

Don’t remember me with tears,

Remember all the laughter,

We’ve shared throughout the years.

Now I am contented,

That my life it was worthwhile,

Knowing that as I passed along the way,

I made somebody smile.

When you are walking down the street,

And you’ve got me on your mind,

I’m walking in your footsteps,

Only half a step behind.

So please don’t be unhappy,

Just because I’m out of sight,

Remember that I’m with you,

Each morning, noon and night.

When I have come to the end of my journey

And I travel my last weary mile,

Just forget if you can, that I ever frowned

And remember only the smile.

Forget unkind words I have spoken

Remember some good that I’ve done

Forget that I ever had heartache

And remember I had loads of fun.

Forget that I’ve stumbled and blundered

And sometimes fell by the way.

Remember that I have fought some hard battles,

Yet won at the end of the day.

Then forget to grieve for my going

I would not have you sad for a day

But in summer just gather some flowers

And remember the place where I lay

And come in the shade of the evening

When the sun paints the sky in the west

Stand for a few moments beside me

And remember only my best.

If I could write a story,
It would be the greatest ever told
Of a kind and loving father
Who had a heart of gold.

I could write a million pages
But still be unable to say just how
Much I love and miss him
Every single day.

I will remember all he taught me.
I’m hurt but won’t be sad,
Because he’ll send me down the answers,
And he’ll always be my dad.