She can be your mother, your grandmother, your aunt, your adopted mother, or an older sister. She’s so many things to us – nurturer, lecturer, coach, lifesaver, homework helper. As Mother’s Day approaches, we may recall specific tantrums we threw, arrows of anger we shot, directly or indirectly, at her. We may recall the strange detours we took in the past and how she tried to help us in spite of our resistance. The older we get the wiser she seems.
In honor of Mother’s Day, I wrote this poem for my mother, Mary, and my mother-in-law, Dot, and for all moms who love their children and give the world its greatest gift … the future.
A symbol of love is the rose
Its petals so lovely and fragrant
Kissed by the dew, a dozen
Their colors resplendent and vibrant
I hold in my pocket of dreams
Mementos of childhood cheer
Your gestures of love that strengthened
And carried me through the years
So on this occasion of
I offer this poem, like a blossom
In thanks for the band-aids and smiles
All mother’s gifts, golden and wholesome.
…. Janet Lane
Happy Mother’s Day!