March 19, the day you died.
The day a friend had left our side.
The call I got was short and swift.
My head spun, my heart adrift.

"Dead?!" I cried.
How could this be?
He had just left...
...I could still remember his glee.

A wife and children,
All left behind.
His story is enough,
to keep his spirit alive:

A joyful man, friends with all,
He loved his family, and trucked through every haul.
A handsome son, and three beautiful daughters,
All left behind: babes without their father.

He landed on our soil,
The land of the free.
Destined to be in his box,
His final resting memory.
"I'm sorry for your lost"
Just didn't seem right.
I had only lost a friend,
Not a mother, nor a wife.

The funeral came,
So bright and tranquil.
He loved his life,
And so many loved him.
A beautiful day, for all to hear,
Even when the bugle cried.
We listened to it's mournful lullaby.

I'm mad at you, but I'll be okay.
I could never stay mad at that goofy face.
Watch over your family, tuck them in at night,
And I'll keep from saying Good bye,
I'll simply say, See you in the sky.