The Last Man

A family tree is rooted in the soil. Family traditions, special recipes.

Gathered together late November to give thanks. Hand in hand, now bow your head let’s pray.

Father God I am thankful everyday for the ones I still have to lean on, cry and joke with; I am grateful for the warm hand you place over The Last Man. I struggle with the absence of my father lord god but I adjust. Please don’t make me adjust again, I’ll never question your judgement I just ask to allow The Last Man to heal through this, the feelings I deal with daily shouldn’t be place upon this Family Tree.

We’re planted as Ramos’ but we’ve blossomed as Vailes’ and we need our leading man, The Last Man. Life would never be the same without his jokes, knowledge and power over this family. Some call him Jigga but he’s very well known a Deacon, as for me, he’s my Uncle, the first of the Gerald’s, The Last Man of Grandma Trudy kids standing.

A family tree is rooted in the soil. Family traditions, special recipes.

Gathered together late November to give thanks. Hand in hand, now bow your head let’s continue to pray.