Sympathy Sayings

I put in it, and all I knew
Of canvas-cunning and of Art,
Of tenderness and passion true.
A worshipped Master came to see;
Oh he was kind and gentle, too.
He studied it with sympathy,
And sensed what I had sought to do.

Said he: “Your paint is fresh and fair,
And I can praise it without cease;
And yet a touch just here and there
Would make of it a masterpiece.”
He took the brush from out my hand;
He touched it here, he touched it there.
So well he seemed to understand,
And momently it grew more fair.

Oh there was nothing I could say,
And there was nothing I could do.
I thanked him, and he went his way,
And then - I slashed my picture through.
For though his brush with soft caress
Had made my daub a thing divine,
Oh God! I wept with bitterness,
. . . It wasn’t mine, it wasn’t mine.
(by Robert William Service)

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Once upon a time
Not so very long ago
I lost my brother Randy
To suicide, you know.

In a lonely motel room
Just a few miles down the road
He gave his life to God that day
To unburden a heavy load.

His life on earth was 38 years,
Too young to cry so many tears.
His heartaches were too much to bear,
For dark clouds had followed him everywhere.

Once upon a time,
Not so very long ago
My precious brother Randy
Decided to let go

With pictures of his children
who were kept away from him
He gazed upon their beloved faces
As the barrel was brought to his chin.

And in that final hour
As all hope disappeared,
His tears began to shower
Down his face of 38 years.

In his deep depression
One thing he failed to see…
His life was very precious
to Mom, Dad and me.

Once upon a time
Not so very long ago
Randy chose to leave us
Thought he knew we loved him so

Along with his life, he took our hearts
And shook our very souls
Leaving us with the crumbled pieces
To grieve our loss forevermore.

Once upon a time,
Not so very long ago
Randy found the peach he sought
In God’s loving arms, you know.

Brother, You are forever
in my heart and thoughts
and sadly missed by sissy

Written in loving tribute to my brother Dana R. Gubaci (Randy)
May 3, 1963 - July 4, 2001
(by Teresa Callahan)

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Silence is the enemy,
and at once, my greatest friend.
But when is all this silence,
and my fear to end?

My struggles have been long and hard,
at times, a frantic flight
From the dangers in the darkness,
seeking light.

How does it remain so hard
to reach the point of knowing?
How can this stagnation end,
and my soul rekindle growing?

I know that I am weary, for I feel my loss of light.
That lets the shadows strengthen in my ever ebon night.
The power of my soul to climb above such mortal care
Is fading, taking with it the life within my air.

So, I breathe deep, with passion, savoring the power
That does remain, while I await Death’s appointed hour.
Now comes the dagger, sharp and sleek, quickly from the mist,
And I, from sheer frustration, raise an angry fist.

As onward flies the dagger, toward my heart of stone,
I know my final words will fall in silence, all alone.
And I feel peace, and freedom, as the blade doth come to rest.
Without pain, I shudder, as I spend my final breath.

Too late, I see
that God has dwelt inside of me,
And I, in sin,
launched the blade that now rests in
His heart.
(by Ronald Hatton)

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