My mother didn’t make it
to see my sixty years
when she passed away in May last year
amongst the smiles and tears
That saddened me (of course it did)
but it’s other times I miss
like the joy of giving flowers
on Mother’s Days like this
Yet the solace that I take away
from all the days I’ve cried
is the ever joyful knowledge
that she’s by my Father’s side
As her eldest son, I wrote this as the eulogy for my late Mother’s life celebration on Friday 14 June last.
Ruth Eunice Shrimpton
Was Croucher, Nee Dainton
is having a whale of a time
So I thought I would capture a bit of her life
for you in some syntax and rhyme
Seven and eighty years is a
good innings to have for a start
And whilst we don’t have the time
for all of that here
These words have come from my heart
The sunset is over
the fading has passed
the evening slip-slides away
We’ve said our goodbyes
and shared in the peace
that we saw at the end of your day
The red and the gold
have flooded the sky
The evening of life is now done
We’ve each kissed your head
and held your sweet hand
as the end of your life has now come
Dear Mama, how you doing? It’s kind of hectic here.
I am doing a real good job, though why ain’t always clear.
Mama don’t you worry; there’s nothing that I lack.
My platoon is the very best, and we’ve got each other’s back.
When you lay your heart out, open in your hands in front of you to share, hoping that by sharing, another’s pain is diminished. Somehow by being closer to love shared by knowing the heart of Jehovah God, then maybe, just maybe, healing will begin in those small pieces of pain shared.
An Angel, A Heart, A Christmas Prayer
Often I sit and wonder of knowing a mother’s love for a child.
Thoughts and emotions taunt of wanting ever to be bequiled
An early rose on Mother’s Day
appropriately there
exuding beauty in its form
combined with love to share
Fragrance subtle, petals frail
A heart concealed, yet strong
with influence and calming
for an early springtime song
She gave of herself with no expectations
We seldom heard her ask for very much
You could make her smile with just a hug
She always returned such a gentle touch.
Without her, would there be words or any to read them
Because of her, we mirror bits of wisdom she had to say
Believing her, we stand on our feet and face all that come
Thinking of her, we try to make her proud, every single day.