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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…
Mama’s hands Mama’s hands were a picture of gentleness, hard work, and integrity. A picture of generations — from childhood to mother, to grandmother and great-grandmother. Life continues – we grow and mature and grow old and older still. Her hands were gentle and firm, Strong and kind – as a child, as a mother…
Mom Breakfast in bed with tea on a tray, Kisses and cards and a lovely bouquet, Sweetness and cuddles and “Mom, you’re the best!” Being pampered and coddled – what a lovely day of rest! Ah, the dreams that we have for that day of the year That oft times aren’t realized by…
This apron of mine is so stained ( it’s not new) For I’ve worn it so often with work to do. I’ve used it to wipe off my counter and hands, And to open a myriad of tight lids on my cans. It’s been used to wipe dirty smudges on ears And it’s sometimes…
May 2010. My first Mother’s Day without my mama. My thoughts then – and now, seven years later. It’s a lovely morning. Sun filtering through the treetops, birds singing, and flowers lending fragrance to a day in celebration of mothers. I find myself wondering: do they celebrate Mother’s Day in Heaven? A pair of bluebirds…
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