I never heard my mother speak the words I love you
Until disease began to rob her of her memory
Perhaps her spirit spoke urging her
Say I love you while you can
Life’s today taken from her
She lived in the world of her yesterdays
Not recognizing the adult daughter before her
But bringing to life the child I had been
My memory took me to my years of growing up
I called my mother mama from the day I could speak
The title conveying her character a woman of the earth
A toughened lady forged from the hardships of life
Mama’s hands would bring me comfort
When childhood illness made its visit
Tucked in bed she would watch over me
Her vigil constant until the sickness passed
With the art of a fashion designer
Mama would place newspaper on the floor
To cut out patterns for my dresses
Hand made creations sewn with care
She sat for hours cutting strips of cloth
From remnants of clothing we once wore
Her hands then braided them into a rug
To bring warmth to our bare feet
Smells of Mama’s cooking filled our tiny home
With apron on she stood for hours
Preparing her family the very best
Often vegetables from our garden picked by her hands
Throughout the years I wondered why
Mama never spoke the words I love you
It wasn’t until I sat watching her days ending I realized
Mama had said it with her hands
Until disease began to rob her of her memory
Perhaps her spirit spoke urging her
Say I love you while you can
Life’s today taken from her
She lived in the world of her yesterdays
Not recognizing the adult daughter before her
But bringing to life the child I had been
My memory took me to my years of growing up
I called my mother mama from the day I could speak
The title conveying her character a woman of the earth
A toughened lady forged from the hardships of life
Mama’s hands would bring me comfort
When childhood illness made its visit
Tucked in bed she would watch over me
Her vigil constant until the sickness passed
With the art of a fashion designer
Mama would place newspaper on the floor
To cut out patterns for my dresses
Hand made creations sewn with care
She sat for hours cutting strips of cloth
From remnants of clothing we once wore
Her hands then braided them into a rug
To bring warmth to our bare feet
Smells of Mama’s cooking filled our tiny home
With apron on she stood for hours
Preparing her family the very best
Often vegetables from our garden picked by her hands
Throughout the years I wondered why
Mama never spoke the words I love you
It wasn’t until I sat watching her days ending I realized
Mama had said it with her hands
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