Thanks again to all of you who, in public and private, have expressed condolences about the death of my mother. She died at the age of 95 and lived a full life so her passing is much easier to handle than the death of one who dies in his prime.
It also helps to know that death is not the end, that we will meet all loved ones again.
To honor my mother at the funeral Monday, Oct 30, 2006, I read a poem I wrote to those attending. I received some great comments on it and I think it helped to soften some of my family’s views that I am the wayward son because I do not go to church.
Our Angel Mother
It is written that God
Made man a little lower than the angels
But the scripture does not mention
Some women who we call our mothers
Show us the better angels of our nature
And are themselves angels from on high.
Our mother was such a person
And I know it would not offend God
To speak for the heart, words that cannot be held back
And call her what she is, our angel mother.
In this we join with that great soul
Abraham Lincoln, who saw an angel in his mother.
I did not always see this angel in our mother.
When I was a boy, I just saw her as my mother,
A mother who walked where angels feared to tread
Into many circumstances where we do not think angels reside.
But still the angel was there, and, on reflection
I should have seen the angel among us.
Yes, I should have perceived, for my eyes did see
A mother who taught me how to pray
That God is alive and always listens
A mother who was kind and always helped those in need
Even when she was hurting herself
And asked for nothing in return.
I saw a mother who lived in extreme circumstances
And fought to rise above them.
No matter what happened she made her children feel secure
As if nothing were there to hurt or make afraid.
When she was left on her own, she started with nothing
And manifested everything.
I saw a mother who was tolerant, patient and accepting.
No matter what any of us kids did.
We knew we could tell our mother
She understood our weaknesses
Yet had faith in our strengths
Her love for us was her only use of force.
I saw a mother who was tried by fire
And the fire did not consume her
But the golden essence of her nature
Was refined and purified until
The angel within was clearly revealed
As the years passed by
I saw the good seeds of her life sprout and grow until
We no longer just see a mother but an angel mother.
Now she has left her body and returned home
God has one more angel
To sit at His feet and make heaven complete.
The man who doesn’t read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read them. Mark Twain (1835 – 1910)
Oct 31, 2006
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