Her harsh tone was mellowed
In her golden years of age.
Her hair was streaked with yellow
Mostly silver at this stage.
Her words were soft spoken
And filled with loving grace.
At last the hard lines were softened,
Across her wrinkled face.
The years gone by remembered
By the children that she bore.
The pangs of guilt delivered,
By her stark glare and voice.
We could not be good enough
It seemed beyond our reach.
Her discipline was so tough,
We often felt it’s breach.
But her harsh tone mellowed
In her golden years of age.
We tried to pull her close,
But still she pushed away.
And then we noticed distance,
In her thoughts and mind.
She was still our mother,
But so different at that time.
Her thoughts no longer clear,
Her tongue she held in peace.
No words would she utter
She wore a woolen fleece.
Who are you? She finally said,
No longer knowing her own.
Lost in her memories of youth
For us her mind was gone.
At last she would go to live
To the Haven of Rest.
Lost forever in her thoughts
She gave her very best.
She seemed to like it there,
But we were never sure.
She spoke of her childhood,
And with thoughts so pure.
But at the end she returned,
As it seemed to all she bore.
She lashed at us with spurn
Like it had been long before.
Alzheimer’s took her mind,
And eventually her heart too.
We said goodbye to Mom,
The one we really never knew.
© Shy Barr
August 6, 2006
In memory of my Mother,
I craved her love for naught.
January 17, 1915 ~ July 10, 2000
*~*~*
Psalms 30:2 ~ O LORD my GOD, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. |
