[A song I wrote about my grandfather's deathbed. He was surrounded by loved ones. Sadly, I did not make it in time to be there. I wrote this song desperately wishing I was there.]

Don't Cry

When I walked into his room, my heart had skipped a beat, 

as he lay there in silence, with his diary at his feet.

His eyes were closed so tight, his lips were cracked and dry, 

and in my heart, I heard him say “don't cry”. 

I dropped down by his side him, both knees upon the floor, 

and prayed this prayer with all my heart and more:

Dear Jesus, when he comes to you, 

please take him in your arms, 

please shine your light upon him, 

please keep him safe from harm. 

And when he comes a knockin’, 

at the foot of Heaven’s doors, 

Please remember, he was a fan of yours. 

His diary lie there on this bed, for all the world to see, 

and there I saw a picture of Grandma, him and me. 

Fishing off his boat out on Long Island Sound, 

where the blues and sun and memories were abound. 

The seas were always rough, and I was scared at 9,

but he always reassured me, “uncha worry, you'll be fine.”

Dear Jesus, when he comes to you, 

please take him in your arms, 

please shine your light upon him, 

please keep him safe from harm. 

And when he comes a knockin’, 

at the foot of Heaven’s doors, 

Please remember, he was a fan of yours.

When I went to leave his room, I took is hand in mine, 

and I whispered softly in his ear, Grandpa, you'll be fine. 

And behind me at the door, with tears welling in her eyes, 

stood Grandma in a whisper saying 

don't cry 

don't cry.