MY THOUGHTS TO CAROL

Mothers are God’s special gift to daughters,

 without them we feel something amiss,

They loved us and taught us all through our life,

to be an appropriate “Missy” or “Mrs.”

We love them and expect them, to always be there,

to listen to us ‘bout our “when” and our “where”.

And what we accomplished in life day after day,

that is just done in a mothers’ special way.

They listen, smile, and chatter with joyous laughter,

they are proud to see the good “fruits of their labor”.

They know from what you are built . . . your character,

they have done their job well . . . you now they savor.

Your mother has lived a full-fledged life,

even though she’s felt some unhealthy strife,

However, her attitude was not one of despair,

although her good days of late were probably rare.

She had a lot of courage to continue her ways,

having lost her soul-mate earlier in life,

She had already endured many lonely ways,

the worst being ending of day and alone at twilight.

Sometimes it is a blessing when one is so ill,

to be taken away, no more pain will she feel.

Other times, we feel they’re in an unconscious state,

 but still bonding with us until death does them take.

We know life’s pathway sometimes can be rough,

and this ultimately gives one more strength.

But, sometimes they feel they’ve just had enough,

when their life appears at the brink.

But then we back off and remember God’s love,

we realize so quickly just who’s in charge.

We send our prayers to the one up above,

and our problems then seem no longer so large.

When it comes to the winter of a mother’s life,

and you recall all the good times you’ve shared.

You pray by her bedside with all of your might, that her life,

please Lord, let it be spared.

Life is frail and takes untoward twists,

sometimes it even seems to be “hit and miss”.

But, again, everyone knows at some point in time,

life on this earth is no longer mine.

I know your heart is broken and sad,

at this event that has now taken place,

You’ve cried all the tears you thought you had,       

but you have to remember, she’s finished ‘’the race.”

If she could tell you, your mother would say,

 my dear loving child, I will miss you as well,

But this is His way and this is my day,

we’ll again be together you’ll see . . . time will tell.

Written to Carol on the death of her mother
© Ruth Miller, December 2009