Sunday, April 03, 2011

Mum - Edwina Rose

Mum in Law - June


This is the first Mother's Day that I have no one to send a card to. My wonderful Mum died over 20 years ago and my lovely Mum in law just a few months ago in September. I miss them both every day but know I am lucky to have had two such exceptional women to love me and look after me.

So, no cards or flowers or hugs, but a poem - an annoymous poem I found on the Internet  that says what I want to say today to both my mothers.....


Sometimes I catch myself
Thinking, "When I phone,
I can talk of this or that!"
Then remember, I'm alone.
She was always there
To answer my calls -
To listen to my "small talk"
Or when I climbed the walls.
At times, I didn't feel like talking
And somehow, she understood -
Didn't say she wished I'd call
Or make me feel like I should.
Now, I wish I would have
More times, to show I cared -
To say, just how important
Were all those times we shared.
I could have shown my love
So much more than I did -
I never did it enough
Even when I was a kid.
Now it's too late to do or say
All those things I wish I had -
No way to ease the pain inside
When my heart is sad.
She was my "anchor" to this life -
The "rock", that I clung to -
The placewhere I could turn
When nowhere else would do.
Now, the ravages of time
Have worn my "rock" away -
And all I have to cling to
Are memories of yesterday.

5 comments:

Belle said...

Two very beautiful women. My mother is still with me, I can't imagine my life without her. I'm sorry for your loss.

Akelamalu said...

Lovely poem Julie for two beautiful ladies.

I miss my Mum too but I still have a wonderful MIL so I've very lucky.

Manchester Lass, Now and Then said...

Two absolutely beautiful ladies. You were blessed CG to have the love and support of these special women. I'm certain they also felt very blessed to have you in their lives♥ xxx

Dianne said...

beautiful portraits! beautiful women
Mom's Day is hard
here it comes in May and I still have a hard time with it

Carmi said...

I remember feeling a similar sense of emptiness last year, the first Father's Day without my dad. So I wrote about him on that day, and in doing so realized that the act of carrying them in our memories is, in many ways, a validation of life itself.

Nothing brings them back, of course. But as long as we can remember, it is somehow comforting.