Evermore--Edward Shanklin Ness, May 21 1930-September 2nd 2009

All my life, Sunday morning had its own sounds. My Father would be up early and usually the first sounds we heard were of him rattling the lids on the old woodstove as he lit it. He would always listen to an old time preacher named Perry Rockwood on the radio. The fragrant smell of coffee and bacon would fill the house and he would ‘sing’ along with a hymn or two as he made his breakfast. After Perry Rockwood was done—he might listen to another radio show, or there would be silence as he read his Bible and prayed.

Three years ago on Sunday, August 30^th, I came down the stairs, the house was cool, silent---none of the Sunday morning sounds or smells. Dad had been ill and laying in the hospital for three weeks. As I sat there in the silence with an aching heart, I wrote this poem.

EVERMORE

The chair by the fire sits empty

Ashes are low and gray

Sunday’s dawned full of silence

We wait, we trust, we pray

Dad taught us to love, work and respect

But the best of what he gave

Was the knowledge of God, the need of our soul

He taught us that Jesus saves

Dear God—with you we watch over Dad

Trusting you--we wait your will

We will stir the flames of the home fire

And keep it burning ‘til—

--We join You and Dad and Mom someday

At heaven’s blessed door

Where love and faith meet eternity

We’ll be joined for Evermore

---Dianne—August 30 2009

Three days later Dad went home to heaven, our hearts were heavy with the loss –but we rejoiced that Dad’s faith had been finally and completely realized—he had joined Mom in heaven and they were both home with the One who loved them best and most