I want to throw a party, where all who loved me gather
I want them to share stories, with little tears, just laughter.
I want everyone to know my heart, and this was not defeat.
I did the things I wanted to and never skipped a beat.
I’m resting now without stress, no chores or rush or lists.
An eternal dream of hockey, where the Habs do not exist.
I want my son to smile and say, “This One’s for my dad”.
I want my girls to smile back knowing I’d be glad.
I do not wish to feel your sorrow, nor to see you cry.
Just to see you raise your glass and have a shot of rye.
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