When my mum knew she had not long to live, she wrote this poem. It was read at her funeral by my father. If you wish to use it, you may with my blessing.
Think not of me red-eyed and sad, and shed no tears,
Think rather of the love we had throughout the years.
Remember me, but not in sorrow, with a smile
We banked a store of love, so borrow from the pile.
There is a memory there to suit your every mood,
I pray that you will find that they are mostly good.
For �tis a measure of the life that once I had,
If, in the balance, the good by far outweighs the bad.
Janet (Netta) McCracken
1926 - 1999