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John M. Kester October 07, 1947 - July 04, 2010
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Miss Me, But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room,
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little-but not too long,
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared.
Miss me-but let me go.

For this is a journey we all must take,
And each must go alone.
It is all a part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart,
Go to the friends we know,
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss me-but let me go.Author Unknown

The Indian Memorial of Death

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond that glints in the snow.

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds circling in flight.
I am the starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Unknown

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