Dear Ancestor,
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and the date are chiseled out on polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who cares
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I existed
You died before I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse entirely not our own.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
~ Walter Butler Palmer
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Those we love don't go away,
They walk beside us every day,
Unseen, unheard, but always near,
Still loved, still missed and very dear.

Dear Ancestor,
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and the date are chiseled out on polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who cares
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I existed
You died before I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse entirely not our own.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
~ Walter Butler Palmer
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Those we love don't go away,
They walk beside us every day,
Unseen, unheard, but always near,
Still loved, still missed and very dear.