Our son died almost ten years ago. Left a young, pregnant bride. His lovely daughter is now nine, his wife remarried to a fine guy. Life goes on, but there are days when I wonder how we do it.
I often think of this old poem:
They will not grow old,
as we that are left grow old.
Age will not weary them, nor
the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and
in the morning,
We will remember them.
Thank you for recalling for us all the beautiful “Ode of Remembrance” written in 1914 by the Englishman Laurence Binyon.
It was for the fallen of WWI but it is appropriate and comforting when thinking of other youthful lives cut short.