When they told me you were gone I believed them.
How could I not after seeing you in that hospital room
Your hands warm but limp?
When I sat with my head in my hands cursing God
I was really cursing you for leaving me
When I had so much left to tell you.

You told me you wanted to take me to Ireland before you died.
If I ever get to see that place I’ll only think of you.
I still expect you to walk in the door on Christmas and birthdays
With that smile on your face and your arms full of love.
When I dream of you I always tell you
“I had a dream you left us.”
And you always laugh.
Maybe you’re telling me you’re not really gone.
And I guess I know that.
It’s just so hard to see that look in Dad’s eyes
When he tells me about his childhood
And you.

They’re fighting  now, your children.
The last time I saw all of them together was at your funeral.
You were the glue that held us together.
And how I miss you.
I’m not angry at you for leaving anymore
But I wish I could hug you one last time
And tell you I love you.