Yours is the name I carry on,
You were the first I mourned when gone.
You are the first for whom I cried,
But now you are my teacher at bedside.
You guide my scalpel and my voice.
You advise me on every choice.
When I feel lost in the clinic’s noise,
You are my rock, my hope, my poise.
When I reflect, filled with gratitude,
You are the first to whom I allude.
Yours is the name I keep in my mind.
Thank you for the gifts you left behind.
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