God saw you getting tired, and a cure was not to be.
So he put his arm around you and whispered "Come with me."
With tearful eyes we watched, you slowly fade away.
Although we loved you dearly, we could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating, your hard working hands put to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us, He only takes the best.
This is one of my favorite photo's of my mom.
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