Still with Me

It’s been 4 and a half years since you been gone

But your ashes inside a cross around my neck tells me you’re still with me

In the kind of way that I still ask myself “What would my mother say?”

Or when I’m in need of strength, “What would my mother do?”

But I hope you’re still with me in the kind of way

That you know that I’m doing alright

I know that your soul rests in eternal peace

But I pray my peace, gives you a little more light

I hope when I drive down an open road,

With all the windows down

Mountains in the distance on my left and right

That you feel the wind in your hair too

I hope when I’m standing on top of a mountain

Seeing all that lies in the distance

Feeling how small I am in comparison

That you’re seeing the world through my eyes with me

I hope that all the joy my garden brings me

Watching seeds sprout out of the ground

And watching flowers turn into fruit

Causes you to whisper through the wind “I told you”

I hope when I’m lying in bed,

With my eyes closed and my hand on my heart

Thanking God for the man that He’s given me

That you’re reminded of the love that you found in my own father

I hope that every sunset that I am in awe of

As many as there may be

Gets soaked so deep in my heart

That your own lifetime of sunsets are instantly played on a screen

I know that you’re still with me in the kind of way that you’ll always be

But I pray it’s in the kind of way that my life sets your soul free

Happy Birthday, Mom.