Memories engulfed me as I wiped my mother's brow,
She would soon leave, her life was over now,
But, don't ask me to release her as I feel her breath,
My heart is breaking as she grows closer to death.

She once smiled as I brought in the first rose of Spring,
Smelling breakfast at daybreak, I'd hear her sing,
Her laughter would warm me as she watched me play,
Then, each night she held me as we knelt to pray.

Pain showed on her face when she'd worked all day,
And I'd feel her strength when I disobeyed,
Tears came so often when hard times would pass,
But, she cried in darkness, she had so much class.

Father left us early when I was only four,
She begged him to take us, but he walked out the door,
She took in washing and ironing to pay for his sin,
But, she didn't complain and never begged again.

We might have been poor, but she made life rich,
She sewed all my dresses with pride in each stitch,
I finally reached womanhood by her undying grace,
And the dignity I held never strayed from its place.

By oil lamp she'd help me with school work at nights,
As she weaved baskets to sell to the town's socialites,
When Christmas morn came, there were striped candy canes,
With pies and cakes cooling on the cold window panes.

Without warning, her slight cold fell in her chest,
And I heard her lungs fill as I lay on her breast,
The fever had risen and it burned in her head,
"God, don't take my mother, take me instead".

But, the light in her eyes was fading so fast,
Then, I realized that she must rest at last,
Her breath has stopped now and her heart beats no more,
"Goodbye, my sweet Mother, you've done your last chore".
 

Judith Hartley  Copyright © 1999.

 
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