Little Boy in the City
The following poem was written by Debra Ciasco, Robert's first cousin, after visiting him a few days before he died. (Robert took lessons as a very young child in New York City, and died at Beth Israel hospital in NYC on 1/19/2004)
A little boy, learning to hear.
A little boy, learning to speak.
Will a big city help this child to learn?
Can my lips be read by my
dear sick cousin, whom I'll
always love?
Or will the Angels of the City
take him above?
Excerpts from the Mass of the Christian Burial on 1/23/2004 at the Church of the Holy Family in New Rochelle, NY.
Robert:
Because your eternal free soul now at this point of time
is disrobing its body like with a coat falling away,
It does not mean you won't be with me enjoying a party.
Because Life is like a stage
with a grand entrance, and exit,
It does not mean you won't be with me enjoying a play.
Because Death is merely an illusion
like waking up from a beautiful dream,
It does not mean you won't be with me enjoying a movie.
But yes, I ached in your parting,
and the loss of our true friendship here on Earth.
Still I can smile knowing your soul never die
but just graduated going on to Higher Plane.
Alas, without our soulful Deaf hugs,
I am just left here to say
"Bon Voyage til we meet again!"
And also the words I long to say, and never said
but now let me just say so:
I love you, Robert.
Patrick "Pax" Mc Carthy,
Massachusetts
Poem by Frank Sisco, brother, that was read at the Mass of the Christian Burial on 1/23/2004 at the Church of the Holy Family in New Rochelle, NY
My Brother Robert "Is"
by Frank Sisco
Copyright 2004 Frank Sisco
When struggling to understand
why Robert died so young
as many other good people do,
suddenly the answer whispered
in the morning,
perhaps from Jesus.
God needs help in heaven
to take care of us here on Earth
and those who show
that they are special caring persons
are often the first ones God takes
to be with him
to help him guide us
and make smoother our paths.
My brother Robert "is" not "was"
He's there in heaven,
very much alive,
nudging us toward love
of God and each other.
I feel his presence and hear his voice.
And I thank God for the time
I could touch him,
and long for the time
I will see him again.
Robert Sisco . .
Robert Sisco. . . my friend, my brother,
who can replace what we shared?
Your spirit, my spirit joined as one.
My heart broken
all of a sudden you left me.
No words can fully express
how much I miss your smiling face.
You touched many lives.
You made each person feel special.
I will always remember your love for me
And I praise the Lord Jesus Christ for allowing us to
connect.
Safely Home
I am home in Heaven, dear ones;
Oh, so happy and so bright!
There is perfect joy and beauty
in this everlasting light.
All the pain and grief is over,
every restless tossing passed;
I am now at peace forever,
safely home in Heaven at last.
Did you wonder I so calmly
trod the valley of the shade?
Oh! but Jesus' love illumined
every dark and fearful glade.
And He came Himself to meet me
In that way so hard to tread;
And with Jesus' arm to lean on,
could I have one doubt or dread?
Then you must not grieve so sorely,
for I love you dearly still:
try to look beyond earth's shadows,
pray to trust our Father's Will.
There is work still waiting for you,
so you must not idly stand;
Do it now, while life remaineth -
You shall rest in Jesus' land.
When that work is all completed,
he will gently call you Home;
Oh, the rapture of that meeting,
Oh, the joy to see you come!
Poem called "Robert's Touch of Love" written by Kat Burland
This poem was included in the Memorial Service given for Robert at Tanya Towers in Manhattan, where Robert lived, and was organized by the staff at Tanya Towers and by friends, David Rosenberg, Kat Burland, Collie Daviton, and David Leigh.
You came into my life, touching my
heart and soul with your sweet gentle love
Just like these persons whose lives
you touched with your love and care
You touched me, I touched you too
You were lonely, I was lonely too
You were in love, I was in love too
You thought I left, I never left
_
Just like those, who loved you,
You thought they left, they never left
Just like anyone’s lives, you touched
My life, you touched
We will never forget you
_
You will have my love from here to eternity,
my love for you will never be away,
it's in my heart and forever it will stay one love
_
I know you are my guardian angel making sure,
that I am alright
“Be careful”, you would say
“Okay, dear Robert, I will”, I would say
Poem called "This is What We Call Dying"
This poem was included in the Memorial Service given for Robert at Tanya Towers in Manhattan, where Robert lived, and was organized by the staff at Tanya Towers and by friends, David Rosenberg, Kat Burland, Collie Daviton, and David Leigh. (This poem was also said at the funeral service of Robert's grandmother, Mary Sisco, at Our Lady of Victory Church in Mt. Vernon, NY by Monsignor Vincenzo, on March 12, 2003, Robert's 51st birthday. )
Imagine you are standing on seashore. A ship at your side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. You watch her until she hangs like a speck where sea and sky meet, and as she disappears, someone exclaims: “There, she’s gone.”
Gone where? Gone from your sight, that’s all. She is just as large in hull and mast and spar as when she left your side. Her diminished size is in you, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at your side says, “She’s gone,” there are other eyes watching for her coming and other voices ready to take the glad shout, “There She Comes!”
That is what we call dying. Life itself is eternal. Death is only a horizon, and a horizon is nothing, but the limit of our sight.
Anonymous