Dear Abe,

You were in a rush to go,

Not for last hour Christmas shopping;

Just like 22 years ago,

When I heard the news most saddening.

You have to travel by jet plane,

To meet him half way of the globe;

I only needed to board a bus,

For a ride longer than the road.

You are going home with assurance:

Your dad has crossed over the finish line,

Was escorted by his angelic guardian,

And is received into the wondrous light.

I was going home with whimsy:

My dad ceased his breathing;

Languishing was his spirit;

His soul kept wandering.

Your dad probably bid goodbye to loved ones,

Before he said his last prayer;

My dad was said to wave his fingers and hands,

Writing farewell words in the air.

You will reunite with your dad

In the fullness of God's time.

I can only hope for the best:

Is my dad in the Book of Life?

You owe your dad a final homage,

I am indebted to my dad's caring.

Let's sprint ahead, my brother,

For souls are fast perishing.

(Composed on Dec. 18, 2001)