The last thing you did before you drove away,
On a beautiful September day,
To help out your dad and me,
Was plant a lovely crepe myrtle tree.
It was the last one planted out of five,
To be enjoyed while we’re on the patio outside,
I watched you while you were hard at work,
Digging up all that dirt.
Let me take your picture, I said,
And you smiled and turned your head,
I took a wonderful picture of you,
Beside the crepe myrtle when you were through.
The following weekend you were dead,
There are no words that can be said,
You were here one moment, the next you were gone,
And we are left to struggle on.
Who could know that picture would be our last,
Of the twenty-two years that had passed,
From our darling baby to handsome young man,
We are working hard to understand.
I treasure that picture that now hangs on our wall,
A special moment in time to recall,
And when I look at the crepe myrtle tree,
I see your beloved face smiling at me.
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