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Posted by Bob Worthy on June 7, 2008, 11:48 am
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We are still on for tomarrow Joe.
Bob W.
> Sunday, June 8th 2008 would have my son’s 20th birthday and it is,
> almost to the day, a year and a half after his death.
>
> Has it gotten any better? I would have to say that, for the most part,
> my days aren’t as difficult as they were a year ago. There are still
> some bad days but not as much. There are some songs on the radio I have
> to turn off (Tears in Heaven, for one) and sometimes there is guilt and
> a feeling of emptiness when I realize I am doing something that he would
> have liked as well.
>
> It has been tough lately as we close in on his birthday. Thinking of
> all the things that could have been but will never be, the unrealized
> potential, the wedding we won’t witness, the grandchildren we will never
> hold.
>
> His friends still post in his online guestbook:
>
> http://www.legacy.com/Record-Eagle/GB/GuestbookView.aspx?PersonId=20256145
>
> His brother wrote and recorded a song for Chris’ funeral – I added some
> pictures and a few video clips:
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD7XSGpFvso
>
> This is a song that he wrote and recorded – again, I added a few
> pictures and a lot of video: (btw – if any of you are fans of the
> hip-hop genre I would appreciate knowing if it’s any good… I think it’s
> good – but then I’m an old rock-n-roller who may be just a bit biased)
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_j6ghp1o4Ig
>
> I love this one, he’s trying to ‘walk the dog’ with a yo-yo but it’s
> being stubborn:
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCIAa9IacZs
>
> One of the things that helped me through the last year and a half is a
> poem that Chris wrote:
>
> I sit staring at a blank dark wall
> The hole on the upper corner looks as if a fist had punched thru
> How that must have hurt
> Like losing part of your skin
> It seems this wall has encountered many battles
> Its lost part of itself, but it has kept the pieces that hold it together
> The paint is peeling, the color fading away
> Yet it refuses to fall
> People hardly notice this ruined wall, but it doesn’t care
> It stands because it wants to
> The chipping and breaking over the years have barely even phased it
> It is still standing
> To you, it is a wall that should fall
> To me, it’s a wall that refuses to fall
> Refuses to die
> Everything it has lost, are but pieces it did not need
> No matter how big a piece went missing, the wall made it through
> Stood up to another day
> What we could all learn from this wall
> Is something we can only teach ourselves
>
>
>
> Rest in Peace my son.
>
> Christopher Ricardo Lackie
> June 8, 1988 – December 9, 2006
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