Every day I think about you. Every day I miss you. Every day I want to speak to you. Here is a poem for you.
If roses grow in heaven
If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother's arms
and tell her they're from me.
Tell her I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
Sent by Sal Tritschler on 31/10/2010
Thank you for setting up this memorial to BRENDA PIEDOT.
We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.
Sent by MuchLoved on 23/10/2010
I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.
Extract from a poem by Henry Scott Holland