Patrick Williams sent this photo of his daughter Kathleen, and his late son, Connor on their last weekend together before Connor's sudden passing.
You can read Connor's story here:
http://bigben7.com/in-memory-of-a-young-fan/
An Easter poem, written by Connor's father:
THE EASTER EGG HUNT THAT WAS NOT
By Patrick Williams
Dedicated to Connor P Williams (6/22/01-12/30/12)- Terrific Son, Wonderful Brother, Great Friend and Wonderful Little Man
Kathleen woke up on Easter morn
And she was missing you and a bit forlorn.
She said, “I wish Connor was hereâ€,
But she smiled thinking of you and shed not a tear.
“He would do an Easter egg hunt with meâ€,
Kathleen continued with a smile- bright and shiny,
“And if you took our picture, he would stand right hereâ€,
Holding her arms to her right, as if you were near.
So I took a picture of your sister alone-
A symbol of another uninvited tragedy which into our life has blown
And it is symbolic of the changes in tradition
That will forever haunt me with each and every commission.
And there were two Easter baskets in the basement-
The same number and place, but the recipients were different;
For your basket was left for me,
And it is something that I never wanted to be.
For I always thought that the Easter bunny
Would deliver baskets to both of my children- bright and sunny,
But you left us suddenly and were gone,
So that tradition, too, changed this Easter dawn.
Your best friend, Grant, came to the egg hunt.
He did it out of love and kindness- it was no stunt.
He, like you, got a good lead on your sis,
Then helped her find the other eggs, making sure none were missed.
Kathleen had fun, and Grant did, too
But we were still all missing you.
And even though all eggs were found that were sought
Because you weren’t there, it was really the Easter egg hunt that was not.
And I have cried in the wake of that busy Easter day
And I have folded my hands often to pray
For God to give me the strength to get through
All of the times I find myself greatly missing you.
And if there is one saving thought,
It is that, with Christ’s blood, our deliverance is bought
And that, because of Easter, I will once again see you,
And, then, we will smile, have good times and no longer feel blue.