This is a poem based on the act of a grieving son to come to terms with the death of his father. The process of planting a tree can prove very therapeutic.

When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
The plant was a gift from good, loving friends,
who stood close at hand in my pain.
In their kind, loving words, they suggested to me,
that this tree would live on in your name.
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
The day it was planted, by the strength of my hand,
I watered it freely with tears.
as each drop of sorrow fell onto its roots,
my heart was relieved of its fears.
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
The prayer that I prayed, as I covered that mound,
was that the young sapling might live.
I still cry out to God, in a daily report,
?May it have all of the strength you can give.?
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
While the blooms they remind me that things go on living,
and that life yet comes through when we die.
Still their pedals bring sadness and cause me to ponder,
the reason for the tears that I cry.
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
The flowers bring beauty to the eye of the beholder,
the fruit provides food for the birds.
The branches give shelter from the threatening weather,
and offer comfort like well-spoken words.
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.
As the crabapple grows, gaining strength and endurance,
a symbol of health it will be.
When the birds leave its branches, and soar to the heavens,
it reminds me that you are now free.
When the crabapple blooms, I will remember you,
remember the pain that you felt.
When its dark blooms appear, my thoughts turn to you,
thoughts of suffering that make my heart melt.

Roland Cavanaugh is on staff at a large church serving as the Pastor of Congregational Care and Sr. Adults. He has self-published a book about his late father, “For As Long As I Can.” You can find ordering information at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1597816515/ref=cm_plog_item_link/102-2861005-6918529?

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