Remembering

She was a gentle soul.
She never considered herself strong,
but she was. It took strength coupled
with courage to sort out and play
the cards she was dealt.
But the game was fixed, and she
never had a chance to become
herself. She never really met her
“self” because she gave it away,
not reluctantly, to stray cats,
people in need, the fantasy of
finding love, the job she did
every day of her adult life, the
work of her church, and to the
boy-child who was the brightest
star in her universe.

She lived with uncommon dignity,
grew old without the benefit of
being young, pinched pennies and
gave herself away. She was the
quiet sacrifice that made life possible.

I remember her today with love, deep
appreciation and admiration. My regret
is that she never heard enough the words:
“I love you, Mom.”

Note: I hope this reflection triggers your
own remembering.