The ones that we love who have gone on before
Are missed so much more at this time
But I see them around in the things we hold dear
Our traditions, our food, and our minds.
All those who have gone to their Heavenly home
Sit round the table on each holiday
For their presence is felt, in a tangible way
As we bow our heads briefly to pray.
Their bodies are gone but they’re here nonetheless
In the stories we tell, childhood things we confess.
Take a look and you’ll find they are all still around
In your heart they can always be found.