Today is the day that we should all be remembering our mothers.
In honor of MY mother, I wrote a little poem, which I never do.
It’s a process that I find extremely difficult for me.
Yet I feel warm and fuzzy after I’ve done it – like I did when I was 5 years old and gave my mother my first Mother’s Day gift of a macaroni necklace or when she helped me make a necktie made all out of jelly beans for an Easter so long ago.
(‘cuz I’m original like that)
You taught me to look both ways before I crossed the street;
And I do.
You taught me to bake bread from scratch;
So I got a bread machine.
You taught me to be nice to people;
And I try.
You taught me to not to touch the hot stove;
And I did (but only once).
You taught me to ask why;
You taught me to get my hands dirty;
So I worked at a farm.
You taught me that music pulls at your heart;
So I married a singer.
You told me I could be anything I wanted to be;
And I am.
You taught me that there wasn’t an end;
Only new beginnings.
And I listened…
This poem reflects so many memories I have with my mother and yet there’s not enough space in a quick blog post to illustrate ALL the experiences I’ve had with my mother.
I encourage anyone reading this to do the same and send their mother a small token of your appreciation that goes beyond flowers, a phone call, or a breakfast that we may or may not even be able to do because of quarantine circumstances.