
Mom holding me. Isn't she beautiful!
She loves so completely, so tenderly.
She is a bit of heaven on earth.
I have always known if I talked to Mom, everything would be alright...and it was.
I wish Mom could hold me one more time so I could feel the familiar assurance of her arms.
I wish when she hugged and kissed me good night she knew who she was kissing.
I wish I could sit in the kitchen and visit with her as the smell of baking bread filled the air, or eat one of her hot-out-of-the-pan scones, or any of the good food she use to make.
I wish I could hear her ask, "Are you hungry? Would you like a bowl of fruit and a piece of toast?" And I would say, "Yes" and watch her butter her love all over that toast for me.
I wish I could empty my troubled heart to her and hear her loving compassionate words, because I know her love for me is ever present and constant.
I wish I could listen to her talk and soak in all her wisdom.
I wish I could see her smile, hear her laugh and experience her zest for life the way it use to be.
I wish I could love as openly as she does.
I wish when she said, "Kay Marie" she understood I am her daughter and the light of recognition would sparkle in her eyes.
I wish she didn't think I am a nice lady that comes to visit her.
I want my Mom.
I need my Mom.
I miss Mom.
And I wish.
She loves so completely, so tenderly.
She is a bit of heaven on earth.
I have always known if I talked to Mom, everything would be alright...and it was.
I wish Mom could hold me one more time so I could feel the familiar assurance of her arms.
I wish when she hugged and kissed me good night she knew who she was kissing.
I wish I could sit in the kitchen and visit with her as the smell of baking bread filled the air, or eat one of her hot-out-of-the-pan scones, or any of the good food she use to make.
I wish I could hear her ask, "Are you hungry? Would you like a bowl of fruit and a piece of toast?" And I would say, "Yes" and watch her butter her love all over that toast for me.
I wish I could empty my troubled heart to her and hear her loving compassionate words, because I know her love for me is ever present and constant.
I wish I could listen to her talk and soak in all her wisdom.
I wish I could see her smile, hear her laugh and experience her zest for life the way it use to be.
I wish I could love as openly as she does.
I wish when she said, "Kay Marie" she understood I am her daughter and the light of recognition would sparkle in her eyes.
I wish she didn't think I am a nice lady that comes to visit her.
I want my Mom.
I need my Mom.
I miss Mom.
And I wish.
