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A BABY AT THE FUNERAL
Frances’s funeral was yesterday….
she died a week ago
Her funeral was the first step…
the beginning of letting go…
The moment we all realize…like a gentle summer breeze
Frances made us smile for a short while…
and now we’re left with memories.
There was a baby at the funeral…
Oh, how Frances loved a baby’s charms…
I wonder: Did she see the baby nestled there…
within her mother’s arms?
There is a lot I didn’t know about Frances…
so much of her life I had not seen…
She lived 87 years…I’ve only known her 17.
But it only takes a moment, I believe,…
to know if someone is honest and gentle and kind…
The baby got a little fussy and I had to smile…
for I knew Frances wouldn’t mind.
It was a beautiful service…
filled with scriptures, tributes and songs
But a baby knows not of funerals…
and to her it ran a little long…
She began to cry a little louder…
her sobs breaking the silence and solemnity…
But I didn’t mind this in the least…
Her cries were like a hymn to me.
I thought the moment she started crying…
the service was improved
because all of us who knew of Frances…
knew she would approve.
There is a lot we don’t understand about life and death…
It is a blessing we don’t know everything…
Perhaps a baby crying…
is how the angels sing…
If that’s the case isn’t it nice to think…
in the innocence of a baby’s cry…
The angels were welcoming Frances to heaven…
as we all said goodbye.
