The Gift of Life

In memory of a very special young woman who left a wonderful legacy – precious memories and two beautiful children.

‘What colour was the paper Daddy?’
‘Silver in the theatre light?’
‘What colour was the wrapping Daddy?’
‘Deeper than the purple night.’

‘What was the sound she made Daddy?’
‘It was the chime of Heaven’s bell.’
‘What was she like to touch Daddy?’
‘So soft, as soft as feather down.’

‘And did her gift need batteries Daddy?’
‘Oh yes, it’s called a heart.’
‘What if her batteries die Daddy?’
‘We know then it’s the time to part.’

‘What happens when we part Daddy?’
‘Then tears will truly have begun.’
‘What colour will the tears be Daddy?’
‘Much brighter than the morning sun.’

‘Can all tears make a sound Daddy?’
‘Sometimes a scream; sometimes a sob.’
‘What are they like to touch Daddy?’
‘They burn the eye or turn to flood.’

‘So will I drown in all these tears?’
‘No you were taught to swim.’
‘But will I ever lose this gift?’
‘No, you were taught to win.’

‘Who taught me how to swim Daddy?’
‘The one who bathed in golden light.’
‘What colour was she wrapped in Daddy?’
‘A cloth from heaven; the purest white.’

‘Who gave to me this gift Daddy?’
‘The one who needed batteries new.’
‘So will you thank her for me Daddy?’
‘I do, each time I look at you.’