The balloons.

The banner.

The cake.

The candle.

The little old lady.

White hair

With hints of the black

That once was.

The smile.

The pictures.

The “Happy Birthday to you”

Sung twice.

Once in the dining room

And once in her room.




The perfectly timed

Phone call from her son.

These were all good.

But the sadness.

The confusion.

The disappointment.

The frustration.

These were not.

They tugged at our hearts.

How could we leave her?

But we had to.

Oh, Lord,

Grant this precious

Eight-six-year-old heart

Flight even now.

Honor your father and your mother (Exodus 20:12, NIV).


One thought on “Mom

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