It was summer.
The leaves about to change.
It was late.
When the phone began to ring.
The news had been given.
His heart began to sink.
Please God rewind the story.
I need more to say.
The nursing home cold and sterile.
This isn\'t where you belong.
You should\'ve been where it was warm.
You were still breathing.
But so cold.
Is this where you go?
In this room for months.
With no escape.
Nothing but a cell.
I don\'t know if you heard me.
I didn\'t know what to say.
After all this time, can I still be forgiven?
For the guilt I felt.
But I saw them take you away.
No more conversations.
No more laughs.
And worst of all.
The void that\'s left.
Can I hug you still?
Give me the comfort.
Strengthen my convictions.
But the father passes and the son remains.
I will carry you always.
In my heart and in my mind.
And that can never be taken.
But your blood continues to flow.
And you will live on.
Because I am my father.
No matter what I change.
Until we meet again.
I will create my own memories.
Raise my family.
Create the roots.
So that you may live on.
I lost my father.
It was August.
At sunrise.
The disease took you away.
You sons present.
With the daughter you never had.
And a wife and mother, that embodied an angel that helped you pass on.