Beloved son of Cheri Bickling
July 26, 1976 ~ August 6, 2001
We little knew that morning
God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly
In death we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you,
You did not go alone;
For part of us went with you
The day God called you home.
You left us peaceful memories,
Your love is still our guide,
And though we cannot see you,
You are always at our side.
Our family chain is broken,
And nothing seems the same,
But as God calls us one by one
The chain will link again.
Beloved son and brother...
Doctor in training...
Lover of nature...
Forever in Our Hearts.
"Get On With Your Life"
"Get on with your life," I hear people say
And those who don't say it are thinking that way.
"It's been quite awhile--so I just do not see
The possible gain if you grieve constantly."
"Then take all the things that your child held so dear.
If they give you sadness, then why keep them near?
To store with the mass cards and last lock of hair,"
And perhaps, like our child, we'll forget they're not there.
So they think our sorrow should end with the days
Of empty fruit baskets and old coldcut trays,
And all of the pain we felt with friends near
Should wilt now like flowers they left at his beir.
Now what do you do to get on with your life?
You can't bury pain that still cuts like a knife.
So I guess we're supposed to "get on" for the crowd,
Where everyone's sign reads, "no sadness allowed."
So get on we do, and we put on a face
That 'mid worlds of laughter seems not out of place.
Now all of the folks we see every day
No longer need reasons for looking away.
Then one day they'll ask, "Why are you so glum?"
"You're down in the dumps--what can it be from?"
"You've been doing so well for so long, so it seems,"
And the seething volcano inside of me screams.
Ken Falk, NW CT Chapter