This morning I am thinking about my Dad and the fact that in a graveyard far from my home some stranger will be placing a flag on his grave for Memorial Day. I won't be there to see it, no one from my family will, and this brings a melancholy to my heart.
There is a place deep within me where I hold you tight and am comforted. I whisper a secret wish up to God, and ask an angel to deliver a message to you. God touches that place in my heart causing it to stir and answers, "You were never really separated".
So I am with you, both then and now. Our separation is only an illusion, for still you run through my veins and fill my heart. I am 3, lying in a hammock, listening to your heartbeat and I am 49 guiding the hand of a distant stranger, who may just be an angel, placing a flag on your grave.
"So speak kind to a stranger
Cause you'll never know
It just might be an angel come
Knockin' at your door"