You paused at the door, looked behind,
before passing into;
hesitation, a wishful sigh,
but nothing left to do.
Though you’d have stayed, through pain and tears;
your body gave you no choice.
Disease’s progress wore you down,
and now has stilled your voice.
We left here have holes in our lives
which no surgeon could mend;
where each of us was joined to you
went with you at the end.
Yet part of you remains with us;
we see it when we look.
Each face, each heart, there’s still a part;
you left more than you took.
Like puzzle pieces cut and patched
and fitted back with glue,
those parts of you join parts of us
to make us one anew.