After the service when you're walking slowly to the car...

[mal]

After the service when you're walking slowly to the car... And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air... You hear the tolling bell... And touch the silk in your lapel... And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band... You take her frail hand... And hold on to the dream.

^It's like it was written about my Mom @ Ft. Logan for my Father's Service just weeks before she Passed...



peace...