Goodbye, Again, Mom

Some anniversaries come hard every year.

The day mom died is one of them. I've gotten better, so much better, over the years, but the ache has never completely gone.  Each year, as the days shorten and the weather cools, I wish that, just once, I could see her again, feel her arms around me.

I wrote this poem shortly after she died.  Reading it these thirty-some years later, I still cry, because I still don't want her to be gone.

Rest in Peace, Mom.

'Janice', said Mom, 

just six months nigh,

'I think you should know

that I'm going to die.'

'They say I have cancer;

they have no cures.

I may die real soon, 

or I may live for years.

'We all must accept 

the things that will be.

They cannot be changed, 

but, stay happy, for me.'

I put my arms 'round her,

Tears started to fall.

I closed my eyes, weeping,

and heard her soft call.

'I love you my dear,

this much you know.

I'll love you forever,

I'll be watching you grow.

'Things will be rough,

everything will go wrong.

But when hard times come,

I know you'll be strong.'

She held me close, then, 

as a mother only can.

She comforted me, then,

she held my hand.

I cried like a baby,

I didn't want her to go.

I wanted her always, 

but that wouldn't be so.

'Cause my mother, she died.

She left us one day.

Her pain and her suffering, 

I watched it go away.

Oh, God, but I miss her,

and always, I will.

But the things that she said

remain with me still.

'We all must accept 

the things that will be.

They cannot be changed

But, stay happy, for me.

'And wherever you wander;

where ever you roam,

I'll be there to meet you,

when you come home.'

In Memory of Margaret Mary John

June 19, 1930 - Sept. 7, 1977