August 25, 1941- July 10, 2012
To My Friend Lumpy
The smile greeted you, which was always a good sign,
Because when asked how he was doing, it was “I'm fine”.
Always present with a joke and a quip,
Being around Lumpy was always a trip.
There were many phone calls that came, that is true,
They would pick you up when you were feeling blue.
Conversations were always cheerful and light,
Sometimes reminding you that you weren't so bright.
A September call came, saying my best friend was hurting,
He'd been a victim of a freak strike of lightning.
Those that could, called asking what they could do,
They all stated their feelings and said a prayer or two.
We visited, cried, and hoped for him the best,
A cure never came, so he succumbed to eternal rest.
So life will be emptier without my best friend,
Only time and memories will heal in the end.
Those that met and loved him would most likely agree,
Lumpy lived his life fully, happy, and free.
So how do you define someone as a true best friend?
That would be a person you'll miss the most in the end.
Poem by Phil Nelson