The Firsts

Well, we made through the first Christmas without my momma. It was actually easier than I had imagined it’d be. Just a few tears.

I think that I feel the worst for Trevor. He and my momma definitely had a strong connection. They were forever sitting in the living room watching sports on TV. YUCK!!! Trevor had to be the first of us kids to endure a birthday without Momma. That certainly wasn’t fair. Just three days before his birthday was Momma’s death date.

Along the Golden Streets, my Mother walks tonight,
With wonder in her heart, faith blossomed into sight.
She walks and stops and stares, and walks and stops again,
Vistas of loveliness, beyond the dream of men.
She who was feeble, weak, and shackled to her bed,
Now climbs eternal hills with light and easy tread-
She has escaped, at last, the cruel clutch of pain;
Her lips shall never taste its bitter cup again.
Oh! Never call her dead, this buoyant one, and free,
Whose daily portion is delight and ecstasy!
She bows in speechless joy before the feet of Him
Whom, seeing not, she loved, while yet her sight was dim.
Along the Golden Streets, no stranger walks today,
But one who, long homesick, is Home at last to stay.
Adapted from a poem by Martha S. Nicholson

~B

Wasn't Done

Daddy wrote a little poem. Now it's my turn. Poetry has been my way of getting out my feelings ever since I learned that I was a good writer. Daddy's was titled "Not Done"; mine's "Wasn't Done"

She left so soon
I just wasn't done.
Maybe we fought,
But we still had fun.

I wasn't done with our talks
Little quirks, powerwalks.
Wasn't done laying around
Playing games
Pretending to be profound.

She was too young.
It doesn't make sense
How God could take her
This is all so dense.

I miss her so much
There's an empty hole in my heart
For my mommy.
I love her so.

Never be done missing her smile
Her pride in us all.
My mother, my sister,
My teacher, my friend.