*Memories compiled by my siblings and I and read at my mom's funeral
To Mom on the happiest Mother's Day of your life!
The call came to us, Mom, Those words that sent us spinning.
They said you passed away, Mom, Your time in Heav'n beginning.
Your busy hands are still, Mom, The hands that did so much.
Those hands that blessed the world, Mom, We won't forget their touch.
The hands that wrote us letters, with perfect, fluid writing.
The hands that tended gardens, and taught that it's exciting.
The hands from quilting knotted, something you never ceased.
The hands who's skin felt special, that could be pinched and creased.
Your feet have ceased their walking, Mom, From going many places.
You traveled many miles, Mom, And brightened many faces.
Feet that traveled bare at times, that slippers kept from cold.
Feet that now are comfortable, with shoes that won't grow old.
Feet that tromped along in boots, to berry briars smash.
Feet that squashed the cans down flat to fit more in the trash.
Feet that traveled many miles in these hills and hollers.
Feet that walked through chicken house, helping earn more dollars.
Your voice has now been silenced, Mom, Your last words have been spoken.
The memory of it whispers, Mom, Although our hearts are broken.
The voice that said, "You play a game, and I will wash the dishes."
The voice that said, "Let's sleep outside!" One of your many wishes.
"A cabin right down on the bluff!" The voice would often hark.
"If we would do a little work, we'd have a little park!"
The voice with alto singing, rose from your Sunday seat.
The voice that always asked us, "What did you have to eat?"
You were so creative, Mom, You stirred it up in us.
You made memories for us, Mom, And made them without fuss.
You loved to plan our picnics –White River, park, back yard.
When the electric went off, you made it fun, not hard.
You encouraged fishing trips, then watched us from your chair.
Saturdays you let us eat our packed lunch anywhere.
You taught us switching bedrooms, and re-arranging stuff
Was much more fun than letting the cleaning be enough!
Your Faith has not been silenced, Mom, It will live on and on.
You lived it out in actions, Mom, It speaks, though you are gone.
You showed us what you held dear, just by your quiet acts
Visiting the elderly – and letters mailed by stacks!
You took time for your neighbors, if you met up in town
Stopping for a friendly chat, your smile could change a frown!
We knew where you took your needs, the place for every care.
New shoes, a cough, decisions –nothing too small for prayer!
You showed us peace in illness, with quiet, simple trust
Accepting what life brought you, if walk this path you must.
You didn't like much fuss, Mom, This pob'ly seems too much.
But memories flood our minds, Mom, More than a pen can touch.
Simpler was always better –wildflowers, not a rose
A bowl of soup or sandwich would be the thing you chose.
Homemade card, or handmade gift, make do with what is here
Don't spend a bunch of money, you made your wishes clear.
You made mistakes we know, Mom, You never claimed perfection.
You said "Sorry" quickly, Mom, When things needed correction.
Home will never be the same without your special touch.
Now things won't get done as well, we surely know that much!
To all of you who've lent a hand, and by our sides have sat
We promise you no Thank You card – you know that Mom did that!
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