THE WALL OF FACES

This is a poem written by Bea Wheeler, a friend of our mother, when my brother, Don Gaynor Boyd, was killed in Viet Nam.

Why? Why war when you can hear these sounds:
A father's choking, rasping sobs;
A mother's unbelieving cry;
A young marine explaining how;
A sister asking, wondering, why?

His brother's footsteps hurrying home;
his buddies asking "did he die?"
And all around the grieving friends.
with just one question - Why, oh why?

The sound of firing from the guns;
The bugle's taps beneath the sky;
The presentation of the flag;
And everyone is asking, wondering "Why?"

Oh Father when you call us home,
where we can share your throne on high,
We'll listen to your loving voice
As you explain, and tell us Why.

Memorial on recreation building - Church of the Transfiguration - Southfield, Michigan

Memorial on the recreational building outside Holy Sepulchre's recreational facilties in Southfield, Michigan.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

DEAR LANCE CORPORAL BOYD,
THANKS FOR YOUR SERVICE AS A MACHINE GUNNER. MEMORIAL DAY IS APPROACHING, BUT ON ALL DAYS WE SHOULD HONOR YOU. IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG FOR ALL OF YOU TO HAVE BEEN GONE. WE APPRECIATE ALL YOU HAVE DONE, AND YOUR SACRIFICE. WATCH OVER THE U.S.A., IT STILL NEEDS YOUR COURAGE. GOD BLESS YOU. MAY THE ANGELS BE AT YOUR SIDE. REST IN PEACE. YOU ARE ALL IN OUR PRAYERS. SEMPER FI.