My son George, was an avid fisherman, a kind and loving person.

He was born on February 24, 1960, and died on December 5, 2000.

He is indescribably missed.

A Mother Wept

Three sons You gave to me
Not one, not two , but three
Forty some years ago
I bounced them on my knee
Never was I told
You'd take one back from me
Did You not think
Unhappy I would be
Did You not care
Were You not aware
That my love encompassed
Every one of three
For a moment did You think
That one I would not miss
And not remember every single
Hug and every kiss
Nor the pleasure that he brought us
When his antics did unfold
And how we all were mesmerized
As all his tales he told
There is a large and vacant space
That dwells within my heart
And it will never leave me
As long as we're apart
There must have been a reason Lord
That You took him away
For a little longer
Could You not let him stay
I love You Lord with all my heart
And now I do accept
That you have called my son George home
While I, his mother wept.


by George’s loving mother,
Floria Kelderhouse © 2001

Black Jeans
For My Son George

He always wore his black jeans,
With a hole tore in the knee,
They seemed to be his favorite pair,
His friends would all agree.

Although new jeans he owned,
From gifts we gave to him,
It seemed like these were his favorite,
He looked so tall and trim.

These are my work jeans, he would say
They are comfy in every way,
Then there they were on him again,
When it was not a working day.

I still have those black jeans with me.
And touch them every day.
It was the last thing that he wore,
Before he went away.


©2001 Floria Kelderhouse

Memories in Your Red Ram

We drove today in your dodge red ram,
I thought of you all the while.
I felt so close being in your truck,
You cared for it like it was your child.
I want you to know that dad keeps it clean,
And polishes it every day.
Because we know that you treasured it so,
You would want it to be that way.
We couldn't sell it to a stranger George,
Because it belonged to you.
So we made the decision,
And did what we had to do.
We kept it son and drive it each day,
Wishing you were at the wheel.
But since you can't be,
Since God took you home,
It's a part of you that we feel.
While driving your dodge red ram.


©2001 Floria Kelderhouse

A Thin Wall

I  only had to look at him to smile
He wore his feelings on his sleeve
Some things he couldn't hide
To laugh, to smile, to have some fun
He always was the one
To bring some humor to my  life
My heart he always won
And when he wasn't feeling well
I  wanted to be there
To let him know I  loved him
To let him know  I cared
And if perhaps I was  the one
Not feeling well one day
I'd  never have to tell him
My  fears he would allay
Today still he is calming me
And I am calming him
The wall that comes between us
Is so very thin
I feel his presence everywhere
And talk with him each day
So never will I feel alone
If only he could stay
We'll meet again one day.
We'll meet again one day.


©2001 Floria Kelderhouse

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