My grandfather is an angel.
God took him so he could be.
But everyday I look into my children
it is actually my grandpa that I see.

Megan, my oldest girl,
has his witt and his glow.
She says things beyond her years
and speaks to him, this I know.

Tristan is my little boy,
the only one of this clan.
I know my grandfather is watching
especially for "his little man".

Dakota is the baby
the last to come to be.
As I watch her play and talk,
It's hard to believe she is only three.

My grandpa had to leave,
to be in a better place.
But grandpa if you can hear me,
I still can see your face.

I can feel your hand on my shoulder,
when I seem to have lost my way.
And when I need to keep my witts with me
I look back to you and find the words to say.

You truly are an angel,
God took you so you could be.
But the true gift of all,
was allowing you to stay with me.