Letting go of Mother...

              
My mom, who has been gone 8 years now, was my best friend.

I wanted her to stay until Christmas,

Just 'til the lights were lit and music played

To spread good cheer.

Until the snow fell from the sky and covered the ground,

And the church bells rang for all to hear.

I asked her to stay until Thanksgiving

When leaves of gold and yellow, fall

With Wild abandon of living;

Until gusty winds build a wall

of dried colors slowly fading.

I hoped she would stay until the end of October

Could bring out the ghosts of past,

To share the evening with goblins

Costumed and cast

With no fear of sins

I wished she would be strong 'til end of summer

When blooms of fruit and harvest

Manifest colors so bold,

Promises that life goes on, a wonder

To behold.

She left in mid-summer, silently slipping away

While butterflies played on a sunny day.

Her silver halo of hair crowned her face, as her life faded,

Her cares given up and traded

For a much better place.

I wanted her to stay. 

                                           
Erma Wells, 1920-2007 

                                                            -©Linda Gatewood 2015