cricket poems for funerals

I know now you are with meI feel your caressIll go on living for you,I could do nothing less. Sown in the earth by skillful handsBrought forth by sun and storm,Destined for a harvest dayFulfilled when ripe grain forms. Joyce Kilmer wrote lots of poems about nature. When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear. From the depths of my heart, come the words of a brother,where our souls and our minds, are like that of no other.The spirit of competition, will always be there,in the look of our eyes, and the glance of our stare.Protecting each other, is always a must,good times or bad times, never losing that trust.Like a vision of Indians, riding across desert sand,or the heart of a Raider, when he conquers new land.We never lacked courage, or showed too much pride,with no thoughts of guilt, or feelings put to the side.Its important to strive forward, and not live through regret,but to savor the memories, and to never forget.To be such close companions, always made me so proud,never scared to express feelings, our emotions speak loud.Whether its heaven or on earth, our souls are always together,we share that sacred bond, knowing that brothers last forever. Forever the bells will be goneI do not know where to find themFor I thought not of their lightAnd I heard not what they sangWhen the ten thousand bells rang. The last time he cut his mothers hairthe rude morning sunleft no corner of her kitchen private,the light surgically cleanwhere it fell on his scissors.Her hair fell in a blonde circleon the lake blue tilesmell of coffeeand cinnamon; her laughingshook her head, Hold still, he said,his hands surfeit with the curland softness of her hair. He is a lover of the earth,And all the wonders it gives birth;He is a lover of the bloom,And all the fragrant, sweet perfume. Poems for those who really enjoyed a cup of tea and the inner peace and warmth that it brought with it. M. K. Paul A verse asking the question of what exactly a fathers role is in life. Our father kept a garden.A garden of the heartHe planted all the good things,That gave our lives their start.He turned us to the sunshine,And encouraged us to dream;Fostering and nurturing the seeds of self-esteem.And when the winds and rain came, he protected us enoughBut not too much because he knewWe would stand up strong and tough.His constant good example,Always taught us right from wrong, markers for our pathway,to last a lifetime long.We are our fathers garden,We are his legacyAnd I hope today he feels the loveReflected back from me. Grandmas Apron Tina Trivett A lovely, reflective piece about the many things a grandmothers apron has seen.MORE THYME! Triumphantly their bodies sing,Their eyes are blindWith music. You were the jewel in our heartsYou were loved in every way.Now youre gone, youre truly missedeach and every day. Children that I leave behind,And their children, all were kind;Near to them and to my wife,I was happy all my life. Just know our love goes deep and strongWell forget you neverThe child we had, but never hadAnd yet will have forever! The teams. Dont weep at my grave,For I am not there.Ive a date with a butterflyTo dance in the air.Ill be singing in the sunshine,Wild and free,Playing tag with the windWhile Im waiting for thee. Anthea Ballam A wonderful verse about the dual meaning of a conductors call of aaaaand rest!Funeralissimo Michael Ashby A short verse about musical notes lamenting the loss of a talented musician.The Gift To Sing James Weldon Johnson A short verse discussing the wonders of song and its ability to raise spirits.My Trumpet Is Silent anon A verse about being silent in this life, but reunited with past band members in the next.Reflections Of A Boomer anon A verse infused with various song lyrics and titles, perfect for a music lover.Songbird Georgia Lound A wistful verse about following the tune of a loved ones life, even after they die.Where Words Fail, Music Speaks Lucy Rudman A poem about the ability of song to express our feelings. wc19 contest Brevity 30 words or less to the attached Mark Croucher painting Time f.. - Joanna Garrido, Profanity : Our optional filter replaced words with *** on this page , Today, Tomorrow, Long Ago and Years to Come. And so we meet again today,To toast your bodys end.For it was true and faithful,Until right at the end. If Id met her in a cavein the darkwhere no light ever livedshe would still be the brightest thing Id ever seenfor it aways was the way she wasnever the way she lookedthat made her so beautiful to meand beautiful she wasthough I never let it blind mefor it was only when I closed my eyesand stood in that darkest cavethat she truly blinded mewith beauty. And be less quick to angerAnd show appreciation moreAnd love the people in our livesLike weve never loved before. Funeral Poems For Cricketers "A Cricketer's Last Boundary" A CRICKETER'S LAST BOUNDARY Weeping willows formed an honour guard For the cricket ball writ with a noble name A team of ten, which had once been eleven Would never be the same side again No bails united the forlorn stumps Since this wicket had fallen some days ago Poems for those who enjoyed a day at the races, or a flutter at the bookies. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. Bike like a rocket each sprocket fits its socket with well oiled smoothness of clockwork. Thanks to Roger. Crickets Demi, Gods And Villains, by Rajnish Manga A Cricket Sang Good Luck, by Sandra Fowler, Hunter. Ill walk the extra mile.Not because I have to, but because its worth my while.I know that I am different, when I stand on a crowded street.I know the fullness of winning, Ive tasted the cup of defeat. On a warm summers eveningOn a train bound for nowhereI met up with the gamblerWe were both too tired to sleepSo we took turns a-starinOut the window at the darknessThe boredom overtook usAnd he began to speak. The archer and his bowNever cease to amaze;They are togetherThroughout all days. That taketh all things under wing. Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees. I farmed the land,I tramped the wood,These are the thingsI understood. The ancients etched the wordsfor battle and victory onto their shields and then they went out. 21 Poems for Memorial Services and Funerals A man who loves this land,And the beauty of its sand.I know of a springs fresh flowAnd autumns golden glow,Of a newborn calfs hesitation,And the eagles destination. This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul! Some light up rooms with their laughterOthers brighten the world with a smile.Many will make you feel happyBy sitting nearby for a while. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion;Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Im old and Im bitter, with nothing to fearSo I hope I offend you by bending your ear.Its my one joy in life you can like it or not No answer in edgeways? Or when Sol dips his crestNeath the glorious westAnd the sunlight congeals into darkWe will skim by the seaWe will shoot oer the leaWe will follow the meteors mark. When my sailing days are over,And I sail the seas no more,I shall build myself a refugeBy the oceans murmuring shore.As I watch the foaming breakersWhen the tide comes rushing in,I will contemplate my lifetimeWith its virtues and its sins. The caged bird singswith a fearful trillof things unknownbut longed for stilland his tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedom. We dreamed of you and of your lifeAnd all that it would be.We waited and longed for you to come.And join our family. You said to look to the night skiesFor there is no other love so resoluteThat the feelings we grow for others;They are never absolute. Cricket Poems - Poem Searcher She loves to sing all kinds of songs.Please tell her that she did no wrong.Would you comfort her and hold her in your arms tight?And tell her she is missed every day and night. And you will see. Poems reflecting upon the importance of the memories we have of others. What if I live no more those kingly days?Their night sleeps with me still.I dream my feet upon the starry ways;My heart rests in the hill.I may not grudge, the little left undone.I hold the heights, I keep the dreams I won. Im confused beyond your concept,I am sad and sick and lost.All I know is that I need youTo be with me at all cost. I discovered you tuckedAway in the shadow of the trees.Then rediscovered you on the smiles of the flowersAs the sun penetrated the petals;In the rhythm of the leavesFalling in the garden;In the freedom of birdsAs they fly searching as you do. The best description of a cricket match in my opinion is in England, Their England, written by A G McDonnell. It pictures death as an old friend, rather than something to be feared, which might be of some comfort to those in mourning. It was the way he moved that made him seemSo much a part of what he did;In every somersault and cartwheelHe seemed to turn himself to air. One, two,Ill miss you,Three, four,Thats for sure. One popular poem, Dylan Thomas' " Do not go gentle into that good night ," talks about the unstoppable nature of death and how we can challenge the way we face death. And then I thought, Everythingis a miracle, even the toadthat lives under the lilac bush,even the nasty-tempered robinthat steals the food from the other birds,even the little lump of claythat I, in my clumsy way,will shape into a potto hold some wildflowers,even the windthat scatters the leaves and the seedsand the tiny pebbles, eventhe rain that falls, even the sunthat makes everything grow. Ballerinas Poem Miranda Snow A poem about the utter perfection required when performing ballet.Dance Of Life David Harris A poem comparing each and every day to a different style of dance.Dance With The Waves Christy Ann Martine A very short poem perfect for a committal or scattering of ashes at sea.Dancing In The Sky Elizabeth and Danielle Hyde A slightly religious poem about dancing in heaven.I Imagine You Dancing Tanya Lord A poem reflecting the hopes of a happy, dance-filled life after death. Guided by the Lonely Star,beyond the utmost harbour-bar,Ill find the heavens fair and free,and beaches of the Starlit Sea.Ship, my ship! So from this moment, lets endeavourTo celebrate these worlds so clever;Well think of them, whenever, wherever:A legacy, to go on forever. cricket poems for funerals. We light these five candles in honour of our loved ones: One for our grief, one for our courage, one for our memories, one for our love, and one for our hope. I had to leave too soon,But love had joined us as I grew inside my Mommys womb. This is the legend of Cassius Clay,The most beautiful fighter in the world today.He talks a great deal, and brags indeedyOf a muscular punch thats incredibly speedy.This brash young boxer is something to seeAnd the heavyweight championship is his destiny. Please know how many lives you touch.These words are my present. Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Poems for those who forged a career as a hair stylist, and had a passion for hair design. To say it loud was helpful,and although quite absurd,we kept repeating time againthat same annoying word. So rest now my beautiful Nanna,Ill never forget how much you have done.So until my hand meets yours again,Sleep now in the sun. But now their time on earth is doneAnd we gather to say goodbyeWell remember them very fondlyAs we look up at the night sky. The gardener is a patient man,He works from dawn as much he can;And when the day is done and hes through,He looks with pride at what he grew. Sunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!And may there be no moaning of the bar,When I put out to sea. I hold onto memories of you And cherish them with love God took you from this world So, you could be with Him in Heaven I lost you too soon But I will never forget you. But then, your spirit came to restWhere angels chose to roamAnd once equipped with ten-pound testYou made yourself at home. Cricket poems : Wilson, George Francis - Internet Archive As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. Ninety years without slumbering(Tick, tock, tick, tock)His lifes seconds numbering(Tick, tock, tick, tock)It stopped short never to go again When the old man died. A broad demographic, some salt of the earthWho with them they bring passion, character and worthThe owners, the trainers, the jockeys, the stridethe horses, the strappers, the dreams and the pride. I have to goagaineven thoughIve just come backeven ifIm covered in bloodblood all over meeverywherethat no one bothersto wipe offand yet they call mestillthe crowd cheersthe ref is impatientmy opponent awaits meI feel deadenedevery voice is far awayand yet I hearI knowthat this is the momentthat I have to goits my jobat first I liked itI couldnt stopit was my lifenow no longerIm exhaustedworn outIm in pieceshow longcan my body last?how many of those punchescan it take?night is fallingI feel itfalling quicklyon memy powers weakendeath will comeand bethe fatal woundfor methe final defeat. Farewell My Friend Judy Marriott A poem written for a friend who was by the authors side for many years.Friend Poem anon A poem about always being there for those you love.Goodbye My Friend Karla Bonoff A sorrowful goodbye to a friend who was with us through all of lifes moments.My Wish For You Debra Chesnoff A poem originally written for a good friend diagnosed with a terminal disease.A Real Friend anon A verse comparing a simple friend to a true friend. When great souls die,the air around us becomeslight, rare, sterile.We breathe, briefly.Our eyes, briefly,see witha hurtful clarity.Our memory, suddenly sharpened,examines,gnaws on kind wordsunsaid,promised walksnever taken. Gymnasts (Sonnet #52) Paul Rowley A beautiful sonnet about the fine line between success and failure.Her Chosen Way Mark Gregory A rhyming poem about the beauty and skill of a female gymnast.The Way He Moved Mark Gregory A poem in free verse about the graceful movements of a gymnast. - "Everything brown is not chocolate.". 'Trees' is by far the most famous. The driver sees it differently, with their car becomes a part,Take the road together, hit the road, with a single beating heart,The turbos rising wail, and the exhausts muscled, subtle growl,To the drivers ear, an orchestra, theres music in that howl. &In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.& Robert Frost, &What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.&Albert Pike, &The fear of death follows from the fear of life. No wound so deep will ever goEntirely awayYet every hurt becomesA little less from day to day. Coast to coast across England in one day;A hundred miles in one trip. Id like to accept that while I stumbled and spluttered,I never strayed so far as to end up in the gutter.Id like to come to terms with all the times I slipped and fouled,But always got back up again: of this I am quite proud. Poems for those who brought laughter into our lives. Hers was a life full of kindness and heart,She was selfless, private, but always played her partCaring for animals to her was like art,And her example inspired many others to start. Poems for those who suffered from terminal illness in their final years. Footballs a match made in heavenWhich is fan-tastic news for meAnd heavens a level playing fieldWhere anyone can kick off for free. Ive been a daughter, mum, nan and wifeI had a ball and enjoyed my lifeIts just that when I heard the callThe call had my number on the ball.Live on now, make me proud of what youll become. You attract like a magnet beautiful things.You sparkle and shine like a diamond ring. When youre lost, when youre alone,and you can see nothing but the darkness,when the shadowy fingers of night reach out,to envelope you in their icy embrace,till every breath only causes you pain,and despair is your only loyal companion. I believe miracles really do come true.No one deserves one more than you. Are the fire exits clear?Id really like to keep you safeWhile youre all sitting here, I do hope some practical jokerDidnt dress me up in my fireproof gearIf Im at a crematoriumWe might be a long time here, The graveyard would be a safer betWith gods sprinklers shedding a tearNow to end my last shiftI dont want to waste your precious time, My deepest love to dearest familyColleagues and friends of mineSo please send me off in a blaze of gloryA fitting end to a firefighters story. Poems for those who loved nothing better than riding on two wheels. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. A Drinking Song - W. B. Yeats - a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life. He moved with such a sense of easeThat you could almost see the lightThat shone within him, the joy he feltIn his own lightness and the flightThat lifted him above the ground. If I could be there with you, wed laugh and share memories from our past,And this gathering would be just one more tale, another story, not our last.But today I cant be with you, except in heart and memory stores.So, youll have to laugh, remember the past,and then let your engines roar! And now, the builders time has come,But their creations live on and on,A testament to the builders fun:A legacy, to shine upon. You watched us make the same mistakes, That you had made before, But that just made you hold us tight, And love us all the more. Then as the leaves tumbleRemember me as a crimson jewelAs we allcarryon, humble,Until the cows come home. A ball point pen just wouldnt do That really is the case For I would be at quite a loss If I could not erase! Our memories build a special bridgeWhen loved ones have to partTo help us feel were with them stillAnd soothe a grieving heart.They span the years and warm our livesPreserving ties that bind;Our memories build a special bridgeAnd bring us peace of mind. But it is only a game, right?So we stand up, we shake hands.We move on with our lives. I was here, I used it all,and now I am at peace. Oh dear, if youre reading this right now,I must have given up the ghost.I hope you can forgive me for beingSuch a stiff and unwelcoming host. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. But now youre gonebut yet youre hereWell sense you everywhere.You are our sorrow and our joy,Theres love in every tear. The race begins,as engines roar.They charge ahead,like a wild boar. It serves as a mark of respect to all who played in 2010 and as a memorial to the unknown village side, especially to those who may knowingly or unknowingly . If thou wouldst win, and not thy fortune rue,Subdue thyself yet to thyself be true. Theres not a pair of legs so thin, theres not a head so thick,Theres not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick.But it can find some needful job thats crying to be done,For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one. We will miss each other for awhile,But you will come and bring your smile.That wont be long you will see,Till were together you and me. Card & Paper Stock Finished size is A5 (A4 folded in half) and it is printed on 350gsm silk. Himself against himself, he ever setsHis knights, pawns, castles in a proud array;His soul the stake he on the issue bets Too great a prize to risk in thoughtless play. Hes got speed and endurance.But if you sign to fight him, increase your insurance.This kids got a left, this kids got a right,If he hit you once, youre asleep for the night.And as you lie on the floor while the ref counts 10,You pray that you wont have to fight me again. Just let me laugh with every tree,let me be barefoot and free,let every rock be overturned,let every blade of grass be learned,let the sky sleep over mewhile I am watching underneath let me weave a daisy chainto make into a bloomin wreath.Give me a flowered path to climb,I need no food, I need no bed,just let me live while Im aliveand I will rest when I am dead. With every brick, a story told,A bright creation, sturdy and bold,A masterpiece that broke the mould:A legacy that will never grow old. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. In his pastimes and sports he will try all the way,And, back to the wall, make his greatest display;He asks not for favours, but only fair play,For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. The Brightest Cave anon A poem from a male to his lover, describing her as the brightest thing Id ever seen.Cave of Wonders Nikki Pruitt A wonderful poem about a trip underground in the caverns so deep.Cave Song Neveah Bradford A short, mournful poem about the cave saying goodbye to its explorers. So I handed him my bottleAnd he drank down my last swallowThen he bummed a cigaretteAnd asked me for a lightAnd the night got deathly quietAnd his face lost all expressionSaid, If youre gonna play the game, boyYou gotta learn to play it right. Ive seen fire and Ive seen rainIve been through a desert on a horse with no name, Ive gone to Kansas City, I sang in the sunshineIve been on the road again, with Georgia on my mind, Like a rolling stone, Ive given peace a chanceIve put a camel to bed and danced the last dance, Mr Tambourine Man played a song for meIve whispered words of wisdom, let it be, Ive fallen into a burning ring of fire and walked the lineTo all the girls Ive loved before, you were always on my mind, Ive been everywhere, Ive been so lonesome I could cryIve driven my Chevy to the levee when the levee was dry, Ive been to Itchy Coo Park in a yellow submarineIve made the scene in a time machine, Ive done the Hokey Pokey and turned myself aroundIve welcomed baby back to the poor side of town, Ive followed the tracks of my tears down a long and winding roadIve kept on searching for a heart of gold, Ive sought shelter from the storm, Ive sat on the dock of the bayIve rocked around the clock, on a sunshiny day, Ive knocked on Heavens door, while blowing in the windJoy to the world those were the days my friend. Every gambler knowsThat the secret to survivinIs knowin what to throw awayAnd knowin what to keepCause every hands a winnerAnd every hands a loserAnd the best that you can hope forIs to die in your sleep.. Poems for those who had a love for the beach, seashore, sand, and tides. And although this pain is painful,And I really dont wanna let you go.Ill wait for death to take me Nan,So we can together one day glow. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. Death is too negative for meSo Ill be popping off for a long cup of teaDo splash out on two bags in the potAnd for my gods sake keep the water hotPlease pick the biggest mug you can findSize really does matter at this timeIll pass on the lapsang with that souchongAnd that stuff with bergamotAnd stick with my favourite friendYou know the English breakfast blendBreakfast! 50+ Cricket Quotes and Sayings - CoolNSmart Survival and loveare what counts, and arentgames. We little knew that morning,God was going to call your name.In life we loved your dearly,In death we do the same. I watched them tearing a building down,A gang of men in a busy town.With a ho-heave-ho and lusty yell,They swung a beam and a sidewall fell.I asked the foreman, Are these men skilled,As the men youd hire if you had to build?He gave me a laugh and said No indeed!Just common labour is all I need.I can easily wreck in a day or twoWhat builders have taken a year to do.And I thought to myself as I went my way,Which of these two roles have I tried to play?Am I a builder who works with care,Measuring life by the rule and square?Am I shaping my deeds by a well-made plan,Patiently doing the best I can?Or am I a wrecker who walks the town,Content with the labour of tearing down? A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam, and for abrief moment its glory and beauty belong to our world:but then it flies again. Someday I will soarWhere only eagles dare to fly.My wings will span great distancesIn a clear blue azure sky.So high above this worldly placeThat Heavens doors Ill see.And angel voices will start to carry meThrough skies ringing with sweet melody.For God has promised us this dayIf His name we will revere.And I hold this promise in my heartAs I mount up with wings that shall have no fear. Grandmas quilts held memories,Of bygone days and years,Of loved ones gathered round the hearth,And tales of joy and cheer. All through the swing he hears the boat singAs she glides on her flying track,And he gathers aft to strike the craftWith a ringing bell note crack. Id like to sow the barren spotswith all the flowers of earth,To leave a path where those who comeshould find but gentle mirth;And when at last Im called uponto join the heavenly throngId like to feel along my wayId left no sign of wrong. A troublemaker, a teacher, a friend. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. Hello there, Granddad.Its me, your little man,I couldnt find you yesterday,When I came to visit Nan. The warriors spirit is like a flameThat burns so bright, lighting the wayAnd its fire will always remainIn the hearts of those who train each day. You ran with grace and strength all game,Your footwork swift and sure,Scored goals with ease and utmost grace,Brought joy to all who saw. crunch! Three weeks after her death,a stranger entered the salonand settled in the chair.She had the colour and shapeof his mothers hair,and when he sunk his hands in it,the texture, even cowlicks,individual as frecklessame.Twice he had to leave the room,and twice, he returnedstill,when he touched her hair, it blurred.Hold still, he said, hold still. There is no frigate like a bookTo take us lands away,Nor any coursers like a pageOf prancing poetry. If you can leave a warm and cosy fireside,When winter winds, nigh chill you to the bone,To feed and scrape at morning, night or noontide,Yet utter not a grumble or a groan.If you can stand for hours with teeth a chatter,When parted hens decide that they will roam.And smiling, say, It doesnt really matter,I only hope that they will all come home. The third candle we light in your memory: the times we laughed, the times we cried,the times we were angry towards each other, the silly things you did, and the caring and joy you gave us. Achievement and SuccessActingAddictionAlcoholAlzheimersAnimalsArcheryArtistsAstronomyAthleticsAuntsBabies and ChildrenBartendingThe BeachBell RingingBingoBirdsBoard GamesBoats and SailingBooksBowlsBoxingBricklayingBrothersButterfliesCalmnessCamping and CaravanningCandlesCars and DrivingCardsCarpentryCavingClimbingClocksCoffeeCookingThe CountrysideCricketCrosswordsCyclingDanceDartsDaughtersDementiaDisabilityDivingFamilyFarmingFashionFathersFilmsFirefightingFishingFlagsFlowersFootballFossilsFriendsGardeningGolfGrandfathersGrandmothersGymnasticsHairdressingHippiesHorse RacingImperfectionJewelleryJugglingKnittingLaughterLegoMartial ArtsMemoriesMothersMotorcyclingMusicNaturePositivityRowingSelflessnessSpousesTeaTen-Pin BowlingTerminal IllnessTrainsUnclesYorkshire. Her fingers wind the wool aroundWithout her even thinkingAnd rows and rows of stitches showWithout her even blinking. Donald Bradman quote: The game of cricket existed long Skylarking, Tales In Rhyme For The Youthful "Cricket Choir Grand Rapids Cricket Club, by Julia Ann Moore, Cricket, s : Wilson, George Francis :, Download Issa's Untidy Hut: Cricket Songs: Japanese Haiku, Tingling Catch: Cecil W Pierces 1894 Australian cricket. Michael Ashby A humorous play-on-words about death and cooking.Mothers Apron Joyce Johnson A similar piece to the above, but with subtleties that befit a mother.Riches Jeanne D. Rhein A lovely, comforting piece about the cosy, familial comforts of a home-cooked meal. Invented one day by a guy named Webb How do go "I have a. Poems for those who either acted in films or shared a passion for movies unlike any other. Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving. Remember Me. JavaScript is disabled. She says youve only left the room,You havent gone away.But I really miss you, GranddadAnd the games we used to play.