Matthew David Funk - 网上纪念网站

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
― Khalil Gibran

You boys are my strength every single day that I am on this earth without you.  Although it had been four years I still do not comprehend in my mind that you are not here.  It is as if it was yesterday that I felt your skin on mine when you hugged me goodbye on 9-10-08 for the last time.  I cannot tell you how many days I want to pick up the phone to call or drive to your house to see you.  But in all the madness of missing you, Matt you are the right foot and Jonny is the left and each day I put one foot in front of the other and get through the day, the weeks and the years.  I know that you will waiting for me at the gates and I know that you are free and happy and basking in the glory of heaven waiting for us to meet you there.  I consider myself lucky that I was able to have you for as long as I did.  I can only count the blessings that have been given to me and know that in the end I will get the answers that I need.   Until then I am content to remember you and your brother for the beautiful boys that you are and appreciate Dallas, Jude, Liss and Gia until we see each other again.

You don't raise heroes, you raise sons
And if you treat them like sons
They'll turn out to be heros
Even if it's in your own eyes.

You are my hero...I miss you and count the days.

What I wouldn't give for one more Christmas, to watch you open one more gift, to eat Christmas dinner with you.  I love you boy and miss you more and more every day but your message was loud and clear on Christmas morning and when I knew you were here everything was okay and I knew all was well in heaven - I love you. Mommy

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. ~ Kahlil Gibran

Son, I received this poem from a wonderful lady who lost her only son.  When I read it I felt like you and your brother sent this to me.  There is not a day that goes by that I feel like you two are just in the next room waiting for me.

WHAT IS DEATH

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
that we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let me name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without affect.
without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.

All is well.

~Henry Scott Holland