Mama’s Apron

Mama’s Apron

When Mama wore her apron (which was nearly every day)

We knew that things would carry on in the-usual-sort-of-way.

When Mama put her apron on, we knew that there’d be work;

Indeed, she’d be willing us to help – how she’d frown to find us shirk!

When Mama wore her apron, we knew that things were right;

For whatever work she’d find to do, she did it with her might.

When Mama put her apron on, it hid her work-worn dress;

She never took it off unless she wore her Sunday best.

When Mama put her apron on ‘twas in the morning light;

And leave it on she always did until day changed to night.

When Mama wore her apron it meant things were okay.

We didn’t have to worry about what we’d face that day.

Mama doesn’t wear her apron now; she doesn’t need it anymore.

Instead, she’s wearing Heaven’s robes and walking Heaven’s shore.

She doesn’t need her apron because her work is done, you see.

She doesn’t wear her apron – she left it here for me.

Some days, I put that apron on and wear it for a while,

And try to hear her voice again – (now that would make me smile!)

Sometimes, I wear her apron ‘cause I need a mother’s touch

When life is hard to handle and I’m missing her so much.

Sometimes I put her apron on – and remember how it felt

When I was just a little child and home was all my wealth.

I think of her so often when I hold her apron dear,

And remember how she prayed for us each day of every year.

Mama doesn’t wear her apron; doesn’t need it Where she’s gone.

Yet many are the lonesome days I miss her voice in song.

She doesn’t need her apron ‘cause Heaven she has claimed!

On this Mother’s Day, I treasure all the memories that remain.

 

Photo credits:

• photo in The Casselman Restaurant taken by Merv Brenneman;
• photo of Mama in the purple dress taken by Nancy Long.

This is a repost from eight years ago.