Posted in Mi Vida Loca, nonfiction, poetry, Stories of my life

In Memory of Mom

As many of you know, my mom passed away last Wednesday. Later today is her funeral. There will be a viewing from 4 -7 pm in Wabeno, Wisconsin with a service afterward. After that, she will be cremated and her ashes scattered close to where my dad’s ashes were scattered years before.

I won’t be there in physical form, as I live in Canada now, but I most certainly will be there in spirit. I’m sure, if she can, mom knows my heart is with her. I’m also sure her services will be lovely.

Since I can’t be there to pay my respects, I thought I would dedicate this post to her. It’s not really a poem, more like free-falling thoughts.

This one’s for you, Mom. I love and miss you.

 

IN MEMORY OF

 

 

Mom

I won’t pretend that you were an angel

Now that you’re gone

You would have hated that description

I won’t pretend that you were perfect,

As we both knew you weren’t

You were happy just being you in all your

imperfections

You had a fast temper and your brown eyes would snap

with fire as you told whoever displeased you to…

knock it off!”

You could hold a grudge better than anyone I ever knew

You didn’t give an inch, as I know all too well

personally

If you thought someone had done you wrong

there was no forgiving

You could be stubborn to a fault

But I had to admire your convictions

that utter belief in one’s self

You and I had a tumultuous relationship

all of my life

Yet I never stopped respecting you

and wanting your approval

Never thought of not loving you

As my mom

You were the strongest woman I know

You taught me to be strong

I’m grateful for that

I just wish you could have taught me

how to deal with the pain of losing you

You lived a long life of eighty-six years

I know not all of those years were good

You had to go through some tough times

Some painful experiences

In the end, though there were lots of good years

good memories, great loves

In the last few years

I believe we came to a silent agreement

to love and respect each other

despite our differences

Maybe I’m more like you than I realized

I do hope so

Wherever you are

I know you are with Dad again

and that makes the parting

a little easier to handle

Take his hand, Mom, as you did in life

and be content with the life you left behind

You will always be loved