TRIBUTE TO MY GRANDFATHER

WILLIAM STAUNTON WALKER, JR

5/13/25 - 7/12/06

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I wrote this poem for my grandfather on Father's day while he was in the hospital.

I wrote this poem for you to tell you how I feel

that you are very special to me and that one day I hope you will

Know how much you mean to me and though I've sometimes let you down

I want to see your smiling face and always need you around

You have always been there for me through the toughest times

And now you are hurting and no one knows why

My heart is full of sadness to see you feel this way

You are always in my heart and every night I pray

That God will take away your pain and bring you back home

to where you belong and to never feel alone

I love you very much and I wanted you to know

that my heart is always with you where ever you may go.

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I wrote this poem the night before his funeral and read it during the service

Today my heart is full of sadness, I've lost someone very dear

He was very special to me and I always wanted him near

He was always there for me though the toughest times

Then he became very sick and no one knew why

It hurt me very much to see him feel this way

He was always in my heart and every night I'd pray

That God would take away his pain and hold him in his arms

To let him feel comforted and always safe from harm

God did answer my prayers and now he's no longer in pain

I can not wait for that glorious day when I will see him again

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This hymn was requested by my grandfather to be played and sung during his funeral service.

IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.

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It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

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My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

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For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live: If Jordan above me shall roll, No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

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But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait, The sky, not the grave, is our goal; Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord! Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

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And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul.

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