Why?

After the escapade with Rachel and VJ, I started hanging around with VJ's ex, a girl called Vicky. She like me was "burnt" because of VJ. We had allot in common, music, taste, humour, we clicked instantly. It was a breath of fresh air and we were inseparable. We talked on the phone many times in the day as well as seeing each other on the night, going to the club and partied like it was 1999. Vicky was growing on my like a rash, even though we were friends, we knew how to flirt with each other! And I mean flirt :-)

There were times that she would purposely try and get me drunk (as she knew that if I was a wee bit merry, then if we had a serious conversation, then I would answer it openly and honestly, think it was her way in getting me to admit that I was falling for her) she always had a thing of when we used to chat she couldn’t take her eyes away from my eyes, and I was falling deeper and deeper for her but my heart was saying no! I valued Vicky as a dear friend and did not want to jeopardise our friendship. Eyes are a big weakness for me as I tend to fall into oblivion when looking deep into someone’s eyes that I find attractive, I died for people who had brown eyes, yet Vicky's eyes were the same colour as mine, Green/Brown.
We did everything together, went on holiday, went out every night, tried to find each other girlfriends, but still we had that rapport where we secretly flirted with each other. Eventually myself and Vicky found partners and our time together became minimal, but Vicky like myself are people who if we don’t speak to each other for a year, when we eventually do the bond is still there. That's what good friends are for :-)

It was then when I started another great friendship, with a guy called Mark. He was a friend of a friend who I knew down the club. I had seen Mark before down the club, but we only exchanged smiles and hellos and that was it. But soon after we started talking and then started hanging around each other. I loved everything about him; he was a perfect Gentleman, even though he was gay. People used to think that we were either a couple or even brother and sister and I loved that :-)

It's now the 1997 and was in a relationship with a girl called Emma, another girl I was with for the wrong reason. She was 8 years younger than me and acted at times like a spoilt teenager. My mom hated her, as let’s say because of Emma's immaturity she did not have any manners or grace. For example, if we were all in the car, Emma would sit in the passenger seat in the front and put her feet up on the dash board. If she came over for dinner, she would eat and then get up and go to my bedroom without saying a word. It was little things like this that got on my mom's nerves as she at least brought up her family the proper way and showed us manners and respect. The thing is and unknown to my mom was that I had just purchased a flat just for the sake of it. I spent 3 nights at the flat with Emma and the rest back home.

Things back at home were not looking so good. My sister was diagnosed with Lymphoma the year before and had started chemotherapy. She went into remission but after a few months it returned, so now she had to go through the whole treatment yet again. It was a big blow not only to her, but also to the family too and especially me. My sister was not only my sister, but she was also my 2nd mother and my best friend. Out of my siblings, my sister was the one that I really bonded to. No matter that she was 15 years my senior, I felt like that she was my age.
We shared secrets, we laughed, played practical jokes, we supported each other and of course we cried.

I remember when I had my 18th Birthday party at a social club; all my family and friends were there. My elder brother had paid for a free bar, so you can imagine everyone queuing up at the bar to get their drinks in. My sister had a bit to many Bacardi & Cokes and got to a stage where she actually started telling everyone that it was actually her "21st Birthday party", the thing was that she really did think that it was her party...LOL!. Of course it was me who had to sober her up when we got home and attend to her when she was being sick. I didn’t care, she was my sister and I loved her to bits.

So now, with my sister going through another crisis, there was no way I would let her go through this alone, so for every Doctors appointment, hospital visit, attending to her at home, I was there for her :-) the "Florence Nightingale" of the family. If anyone has been through or has had a loved one who has been through a terminal illness, then you can understand the ups and downs of what that person has had to go through. When my sister was having a bad day, I was her sunshine, even though she was in allot of discomfort I lifted her spirits, just to get a smile on her face would make my day. This was my mission because there was no way I wanted this illness to take my sister away from me.

My time with Emma was minimal; I hardly slept over at the flat as I was sleeping over at my sister’s house. I knew that it was difficult for her to try and understand as to why I was doing this? but I guess this boils down to Emma being 8 yrs my junior. She has not had a death in her family or a family member having a terminal illness. She just thought that only "old people" died, "wake up Emma and smell the coffee, look around you and see reality for God sake!" I knew that it was only time before that we would go our separate ways, but for now, my sister was my priority. It may sound harsh, but it was not as if Emma was left all alone in the flat, she had a huge network of friends and was always going out every night or having friends stay over. To be honest, I was not bothered if she had hooked up with someone, at least it would have been easier for us to break up.

That same year Princess Diana died after being in a fatal car crash. I will never forget that day as long as I live. My mom woke me at 6am saying that the” princess died" and to put on the news. Still half asleep I assumed it was Princess Margaret, the Queens sister, but when I turned on the TV I sad in bed horrified, to hear the newscaster announce that Princess Diana was dead. Oh my God, how can that be? A woman who I looked up to and had the uppermost respect for was now in the hands of God. I also felt for Dodi and the driver of the car, as of course their families would be grieving too. Diana was an Icon, a person who I had seen in the flesh twice. Once when she visited AIDS patients at the same hospital ward where my elder brother was, (but my brother begged not to meet her because of the huge media presence as he was frightened that not only his friends and work colleagues would find out the truth, but the whole world too) His wishes were granted and he sat in his room with the doors and curtains closed. I sat in the "day lounge" and watched the Princess meet and talk with the other patients. She sat with them, talking, laughing and the thing that touched me the most, she held their hands, hugged them without wearing any protection. No rubber gloves or a mask. It was from this that she showed the world that these people are human beings. The second time I saw the Princess was by chance, myself and my friend had just come out of work for lunch and I was heading to the bank to draw some money out, I knew that the Princess was in Birmingham as she visited St Phillips Cathedral and also planted a tree there which was just around the corner from my office, but my employers Birmingham City Council refused to let it's employers go and see her visit. As myself and my friend were walking, an entourage of Police motorcycles came past followed by some cars and that was when I noticed the Princess, she was wearing a Fuchsia jacket and hat to match, Oh my God, what was I supposed to do?, curtsy, bow my head?, nope I waved to her and the Princess waved back!, I tell you, at that moment, I felt that I was going to faint...LOL!.

So getting back to post Diana's death, myself and my sister went to the Cathedral, we put down a bouquet of flowers down on top of all the other flowers that were put down for the Princess and queued up to go and sign the book of condolence. My message was written in Greek and translated said "Sweet dreams my Princess; I hope you now find eternal happiness". I remembered when writing, I was in floods of tears. The days after was quiet, it was like time stood still. The day of her funeral was one of the saddest moments, on that Saturday Birmingham looked like a ghost town, everyone stayed in to watch the funeral. It was on that day that I had go to "our" shop. My mom had decided to close the family business as she wanted to spend time with her daughter, so she put the shop up for sale.

On the day of Diana's funeral someone had decided to come and view the shop. Let's say he was not of” British origin" and obviously he did not give a toss that his appointment clashed with the funeral. He kept me there for 2 hrs, looking at the shop, looking at every little bit to see if he could find any faults. Just before he finished he said that he will make an offer of £30.000 in cash (even though the business which included the flat above and also a huge plot of land behind was going for £52.000) He unlocked his brief case and there in front of me was the Queen's faces sitting on row's of £50's!. I said that even though I represented my mom, his offer was a joke and that I was prepared to take it to £50.000 and that was our final offer. He refused and left. Thank God! beat it buster, you come and waste 2 hours of my time, trying to buy out our family business for pittance! I needed to get home fast.

Within 5 minutes I was home, cup of tea in my hand and sitting with my family and paying tribute to Diana. Just to add that last yr on the eve of Diana's anniversary myself and my ex went to visit Althorp, Diana's family home. It was a memorable day out, seeing her museum, seeing her personal possessions from her childhood to her adult years. There was a huge cabinet which was near the exit and that held all the books of condolence from all over the world. OMG, in-between all those hundreds of books there was the book that myself and my sister had written in. I felt at peace knowing that the memory of Diana will never be forgotten. We also had another surprise, while in the gift shop we had the honour of meeting Earl Spencer, Diana's brother. He apparently had just come back from his home in South Africa with his family so that he can be there for his sister's Anniversary. I was honoured to have him sign the books that I had purchased and most of all the book of the actual reading that he gave at Westminster Abbey on the day of his sister's funeral.

1998 came and my sister went in remission yet again. I was praying that this would be it, hoping that now my sister can carry on with her life. Things went back to normal, but on the relationship side I was growing more apart from Emma. That was when I had decided that enough was enough and it was time to end it once and for all. So I did, I left her the flat (that I was still paying for) and walked away from everything.

A couple of months went by before my sister went for another check up and it was then when she was hit with the worst news, the Lymphoma came back and this time it was more aggressive. She needed Chemotherapy and this time she had to go into hospital and have the treatment everyday. NOOOOOOOOO! why has God done this? What has my sister done to deserve this? She did not have an ounce of badness in her, she prayed, was surrounded by Icons, WHY?

She was admitted into hospital in September and started her course of Chemo, within 2 days she had lost all her hair; this was how strong the course was. After 7 days she had finished the course and in reality she should have been put into an isolation room. The hospital had other plans; they sent her home because they needed the bed! but my sister still had to re-attend the hospital everyday to visit the "day ward" in order to have her treatment.

3 days had passed and everything was going OK, we even went to the City Centre and done some shopping. She bought herself a dress that she had always wanted and said that this was her dress that she will wear for Christmas day. My sister lived for Christmas as she enjoyed holding the festivity in her home. She even wanted to buy me a suit that she saw, I refused saying that I will think about it as I did not want her to waste her money on me. I wanted her to treat herself. I remembered she looked so radiant that day, all she needed was a halo to complete her image. She looked so angelic and beautiful.

The next day we were back at the hospital waiting for her next treatment, but unfortunately her blood pallets did not arrive on the morning courier, so we were told to come back in the afternoon. My sister turned to me and said that she was feeling a bit tired and said that she would prefer to sit in the "day ward" and wait. I respected her wishes and we both sat and waited. My sister decided to take a nap. She woke up a few hours later saying that she needed the toilet, but she did not have the energy to get up, she was having terrible stomach pains.
I picked my sister up and took her to the toilet, had to aid her as she was doubled up in pain and was also having some sort of fit. I tried calling for help as well as trying to stop my sister from falling from the toilet. Eventually help came and we managed to hoist my sister off the toilet and onto a bed. We were now back on the ward and she was given 2 paracetamol. What in the hell was going on?! Why was she reacting this way? Many doctors came and left, puzzled as to what was wrong with her, but one thing for sure, it was not looking good. Her blood pressure was low and she was having difficulty breathing. I called my brother and told him what happened and asked him to come up with mom; I was having a very bad feeling. Within an hour my mom and brother arrived, only to be shocked to see my sister connected to so many devices and fighting for her life. Still no news from the doctors as to what was happening. Hours went by until it was time for visitors to go, but I asked by the doctors to stay, this was becoming serious. I sat by my sister's bedside holding her hand, praying for her to respond to the treatment and get better. Out of the blue my mobile rang, it was Vicky, she had just that minute come back from a holiday to Egypt and she felt the need to speak to me. It had been a year since we last spoke and now I was telling her that I was in hospital with my sister. She asked whether I had eaten anything and I told her No, but I was OK. She asked where I was and I told her, think that it was just general conversation; she said that she will pray for my sister and me and that she will speak to me tomorrow, it was well past midnight and I knew she must have been shattered. So we hung up the phone and I went back to my sister. I told her that Vicky called and that she sent her best wishes. My sister smiled and then went back to sleep.

About an hour later Vicky turned up out of the blue carrying a sandwich box and a carton of drink. Oh my God, I was speechless and started to cry, she came and hugged me and kissed me on my lips and cheek. She was shocked to see my sister in such a bad way. She sat beside my sister while she instructed me to take 5 minutes to go and eat my sandwich. I was over whelmed by her kindness, Vicky must have travelled over 25 miles to get here from her home and on top of that, she had not long come back from her trip to Egypt. So I did what I was told and went away to eat my sandwich. After 5 minutes I returned to find Vicky chatting to my sister. I was so happy to have her here with me and my sister; it was like an angel had asked Vicky to call me out of the blue. She stayed for another hour before she had to leave as she had to go to work that morning. She hugged and kissed my sister and as I walked her to the door to my sister’s room I hugged and kissed her, I thanked her for coming and that I will keep her posted later on in the day. Vicky left and it was around 2.30am.

For the next hour my sister slept, I as always was by her side. A doctor came and asked to have a word with me, at last answers! He took me to the corridor and said that they were still unsure as to what my sister had but they needed to put my sister in intensive care as she was having problems with her breathing. At first I was horrified, but the doctor assured me that it was routine and that they don’t see that my sister has anything life threading. Just hearing those words lifted my spirit as I was fearing the worse.

Within 30 minutes the doctor and nurses arrived to take my sister into theatre. As she was being pushed on the stretcher I was walking along side her still holding her hand and talking to her. Just before we got to the theatre I hugged and kissed her and my final words were "don’t worry sis, everything is going to be alright" She smiled and she said "I know, thank you for everything" I suddenly felt as if someone had put a huge lead weight in my stomach, those words had chilled me, "I know and thank you for everything" It felt like I was never going to ever speak to her again. I shrugged of my thoughts and sat down in a waiting room by the theatre and prayed non stop. An hour and a half had passed and I saw movement, my sister was being stretchered out of the theatre. I got up and walked towards the doctor and my sister who was now unconscious. I looked at my sister and gasped because there were tubes everywhere, her neck, her chest, but she looked peaceful. The doctor explained that she was now being transferred to intensive care and that it would be best if I went home as my sister was still unconscious. I declined at first, but he insisted that my sister will be OK and to trust him. Of course, he was a doctor; he knew what he was doing so why should I doubt him? I took his advise, but before I left I kissed my sister on the forehead and said "sleep well, see your later my angel".

I got home just after 6am in the morning and headed straight to bed; I quickly called my mom and brother and told them what had happened. I told them exactly what the doctor had told me and even they were happy with the news.

The phone rang at 7.30am, I had just dozed off and was a little pissed off as to who could be calling at that time. I answered the phone; it was the hospital asking to speak to Mrs Weldon. I told them that I was her daughter, and then her next question sent chills down my spine. The person asked me whether I was the next of Kin! Oh No! what has happened?, I told them no, my mom was, but if they had bad news then they had better talk to me, as if they call my mom with bad news then that could actually finish her off (seeing that she had already lost her husband and son). I also explained that I was with my sister throughout yesterday and the early hours of the morning up until she was put into intensive care. She paused again, must have spoken to someone else and then said OK, you and your mom need to come to the hospital now, the doctor wants to speak to you.

I got up, had a quick wash and got changed; I called my brother and told him the news. I asked him to meet us at the hospital as I now had to go next door to my mom's house to tell her the news. I went over through the back door; my mom was up and drinking her coffee. I told her about the telephone call and that the doctor wanted to see us. I did not tell her about the "next of Kin" business as I did not want to upset her in any way. I waited while my mom got changed and then we headed up to the hospital. My brother met me on the car park and we all walked into the hospital together, walking down the long corridor then up a set of lifts to the ward where my sister was. All that time I never let go of my mom's hand, all that time the lead weight in my stomach was getting heavier. We got to reception and I asked to speak to the doctor. The nurse got up and took is into a waiting room, we sat and waited for the doctor. After a few minutes the doctor arrived and he closed the door behind him. He came and shook each and everyone’s hand and sat down opposite us. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he had bad news.
"I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your daughter/sister has septicaemia (which basically means that my sister's blood was becoming like acid and slowly her organs would pack up) and there is nothing we can do to save her" BOOM! Those few words that left the doctors lips felt like someone had dropped an atom bomb! My ears started to buzz; it was like I could hear a very high frequency. I said to the doctor that I was with her till she was put into intensive care and was told all the time that this was NOT life threatening and now you are telling me it is! I want answers, how did she get septicaemia? the doctor paused and said that my sister caught a "super bug" from the hospital and that's what caused it! A super bug that was a million to one to get. My mom broke down in tears and started wailing. I turned and held my mom in my arms, tears flooding from my eyes too. My brother was not the sort of person who was emotional, but he sat there dumb found.

I turned to the doctor and asked how long and when can we see her? The doctor could not give me a specific answer but said that we could go and see my sister immediately. He gave us a minute to compose ourselves and then he took us onto the ward to see my sister. The curtains were closed around her bed; the doctor had opened a corner in order that we could pass through. I looked at my sister and was shocked to see her, her face had swollen. My mom burst into tears and was saying in Greek "WHY?, WHY?, WHY?" my mom was horrified as she had not seem my sister since she left the night before and did not expect to see her with all those tubes everywhere. My brother went and got some seats so we could sit with her. We sat, talked to my sister and cried. She was in a coma, but I still believe even to this day that she heard every word. It was time for us to say our goodbyes.

I wanted to stay with my sister till the end, but my subconscious was telling me to go home and be with my mom. My mom needed me more than ever now and I was not going to let her down. So I let my brother, then my mom say their goodbyes, then it was my turn. I was left alone with her while I sat next to her bed holding her hand. I then started to cry as I said my farewell. I got up and leaned over and kissed her forehead and then her hand. It was then I felt a twitch in her hand, a sort of acknowledgement from my sister to what I had said to her. I spent another couple of minutes with her and said that I had to go and take care of mom. I could not bear leaving my sister alone to die, but I had a duty, to look after my mom as I knew that the shock could actually finish off my mom too. We all left, in silence, that long walk down the corridor and back to the cars. Then again that drive home with mom was in silence, every now and again she would burst into tears, which I responded by holding her hand. We got home and got out of the car. Our next door neighbour was outside and asked how my sister was doing, to which my mom burst into tears and said "she is going to die" before she turned and walked into her house. I stood there and briefly told our neighbour what happened then left him to soak up the shock news. I went to my sister house, colleted her dog Loulou and then make way to mom's house.

My mom was sitting in the kitchen crying. I came in and sat beside her and hugged her. All my mom kept on saying was "why?" I was asking myself that question too. I made my mom a Greek coffee and we both sat down in silence waiting for that dreaded telephone call. About an hour and a half later my sister's dog out of the blue started wailing, I had never heard Loulou wail like that before. It was as if she knew that her owner had gone. Within 5 minutes the phone rang and it was the hospital, my sister had just passed away. My sister left this life at the age of 44. It was now time to let the family and her friends know the sad news. I must have spend the whole afternoon speaking to my family in Greece, as well as informing my sister's employers and her friends. I don't know how I pulled together but I had to.

The next day I left my brother with my mom so that he can keep an eye on her, while I returned to the hospital to collect the doctor's report in order that I can register my sister's death. Then after it was a trip to the funeral director, I arranged the date and chose her coffin. My sister was not Greek Orthodox, but she did practice it. In all honestly she was more of an Orthodox than a proper Greek Orthodox and I think that she deserved a Greek Orthodox funeral. My sister had always told me that she wanted a cremation and that she wanted half her ashes here in the UK and the other half in Greece, as she wanted to be with her grandmother who had passed back in 1988. I was going to honour her wishes, but it was going to be a tough one, why? Because cremations were against the Greek Orthodox religion. So from there, I had a battle on my hands to find a priest who was willing to conduct the service.

The next day I travelled to the airport to pick up my Mom's sister, and then back again to collect my 2 cousins who had all travelled from Greece. At least my mom had company and I had my cousins next door where I was staying to keep me sane. (It was my cousin Maria who was my rock. We had been very close since a very young age, she looked at me and my sister not only as cousins but as sisters too as she was an only child) It was then I started calling the Greek priests, once by one the rejected my request and I was getting really pissed off. Why cant they accept my sister's wishes? Well one thing that would swing them was money, give them a fat wad of money and they would do it, but I was against that. Why should you bribe a man of cloth to conduct a funeral for one of God's children? As far as I was concerned those priests can go to hell! It was getting near the end of the day and I was mentally drained and I wanted to wrap up for the day. I made one more call, to Pater Pavlos, a priest who was from Greece and had just moved to Birmingham. I told him exactly what happened and what my sister's wishes were, I told him that I called at least 10 priests earlier who all said no. There was silence and he then said "of course I would conduct your sister's funeral, let's honour her wishes". My prayers were answered at last, and all thanks to Pater Pavlos.

The time came for the funeral, it was a beautiful sunny September day, and I don't think I could have wished for a better day. It’s funny, but that suit that my sister was intending to buy me?, well I bought it especially to wear for the service, I think that I wouldn’t have found a better suit. Great choice sister, you always had great taste :-)

The service was held at the Greek Orthodox Church conducted by Pater Pavlos. I was by mom's side all the time, we held hands and never let go. It was not until the end of the service when I had realised that the whole church was packed and even had people standing at the back. My sister's friends, her work colleagues, the leader of Birmingham City Council were all there paying their final respects to my sister. I was proud.
My friend Mark was also there, as he was very close to my sister too. Just months before her death they had been on holiday to Samos (A Greek Island) together. I was glad to see him at the funeral. Vicky did not make the funeral as she couldn’t get the day off work.

After the service, we all headed up the crematorium. There we sat for quick 15 minute service before my sister's coffin disappeared for the last time. I can remember crying when I watched her coffin being pulled towards the furnace; I said my final goodbye and blew a kiss from across the church;

"Goodbye my darling sister, you will never be forgotten"

I honoured my sister's wishes and dis exactly what she wanted. Half of her ashes were buried in our family plot and the other half I took to Greece in time for her memorial in October. Memorials are a custom to the Greek Orthodox religion. There is a memorial after 40 days of the death, then 3 months, 6 months, 9 months then 1 yr after.

My mom had already travelled to Athens with her sister 2 weeks before my arrival. Now it was my turn to come over. I remember being worried about my journey to Greece as I was carrying my sister's ashes, and although I had the documentation confirming what I was carrying, I had visions in my head that I was going to get stopped at the security point, with them thinking that I am carrying drugs or something.

Got to the airport at good time, checked in and then headed for departures. Now Security, I put the bag through while I walked through the "bleeper machine" all good so far. I could see the security looking at my bag and called me over to come and open it. Holy crap! now I am going to be arrested! I opened the bag and stepped away to let them investigate. The man then pulled out a couple of toys my brother had put in for me to give to my Cousin Maria's son. One of the toys was a plastic gun! For fuck sake! Is my brother trying to get me arrested for being a terrorist?! The security guy looked at me and said that he was just checking and that he was satisfied that it was a toy and told me that I can go. Oh my god! I gave a sigh of relief and carried on through to departures. After that episode I needed a drink, so I headed off the the bar and got myself a Vodka and redbull. Just before I had a sip, I called my brother and have him a right earfull, my brother found it funny and just laughed!, dickhead!

Anyways, I finnished off my drink, headed towards the gate and boarded the flight.

4 Hours later I arrived in Athens, collected my suitcase and caught a taxi to my Aunty's house. The balcony light was on, so I knew that they were up (it must have been 4.30 am) As soon as the taxi stopped, the door opened and it was my Uncle who came to greet me, he took my suitcase while I paid the taxi driver. I then followed him back into the house, greeted my Aunty who told me that my mom was asleep as she was very tired. I dropped my bag and headed to the bedroom to kiss my mom. She woke up with a smile on her face, she was very happy to see me.

That weekend was my sister's memorial, from my arrival on the early hours of Saturday morning I did not sleep. I sat in the kitchen with the family and had a nice cup of tea. The phone rang at 8 am, I knew it was my cousin Maria :-) I was called to speak to her, we had a quick chat and 10 minutes later she had arrived with her husband and 2 children.

It was then we all went to the cemetary, to secretly drop my sister's ashes at my grandmother's plot, we needed to to this today as tomorrow after the memorial service we would be back here with the priest who would be saying prayers for my sister.

In the evening we prepared the "koliva" which is a tray of boiled wheat mixed with dried fruits, nuts and parsley, once the ingredients was on the tray, it was then covered with a thick layer of icing suger and ontop decorated with a suger iced cross and silver candies spelling my sister's name. Koliva is a symbol of remembering our loved one at the memorial. It is blessed at the service and after it is mixed up and offerend to family and friends of the deceased.

It is a kind of offering in rememberence of the deceased.

Sunday arrived, my uncle was up at the crack of dawn and was making his way to drop the tray of Koliva to the church. After a couple of hours we all turned up for the service. Again the church was packed, this time with the whole Greek side of the family and friends of my sister.

The service was sad but beautiful. I had placed a framed picture of my sister next to the Koliva and never took my eyes off it through out the whole service. I somehow felt that my sister was with us, watching us from above. After the service, myself and my cousin dished out the koliva while the others drank coffee and drank brandy. After that we were off the the cemetary for the final part of the service. The priest arrived, conducted the service and before we kew it it was all over. One thing for sure, I now felt that my sister was now at peace.

If tears could build a stairway

and thoughts a memory lane

I'd walk right up to heaven

and bring you home again

My heart's still active in sadness

And secret tears still flow

What it meant to lose you

No one can ever know.

But now I know you want us

To mourn for you no more

To remember all the happy times

Life still has much in store.

Since you'll never be forgotten

I pledge to you today

A hallowed place within my heart

Is where you'll always stay.