Obituary of Cecil Robert Puderbaugh

I give you this, one thought to keep. I am with you still, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on the snow, I am the sunlight on the 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 think of me as gone—I am with you still, in each new dawn.