Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
- Mary Frye (1932)
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow;
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain;
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush;
I am in the graceful rush.
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
This page is a tribute to my youngest brother, Eric. He was a good and genuine individual, a consummate team player. His passion - lacrosse; his dream - to start his own business after finishing college. His friends describe him as a true friend who shared in the laughs and stood by them even through the most difficult times. We all miss him and seek to remember him with the honor and respect he deserves.
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