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EULOGY TO MY MOM

Copyright Protected, © 1994
by K.L.M. Kathel

Not for Purchase

In honor of Mother's Day, I present you with a group of poems, nearly one hundred in number; written and composed by me during the time span immediately following my own mother's ascent into the realm of spirit. They are not your usual type of poems. That is to say, these poems are not all inspiring or uplifting in nature. Then again, neither was I inspired or lifted up when I wrote them. I was in deep heavy mourning for the loss of someone held most dear and my tone reflects this. And still I wrote them. Why, some may ask, ... and why preserve them here in cyberspace when I am yet, no longer in mourning for death has passed me by. Well, my logic is simple and clear; (at least it is to me)..., namely, each of us grieves in his or her own special way. Some of us need a gentle reminder, that although the death of a loved one is not one of life's pleasantries we do need to remember. We need to remember, not only feelings involved but the entire process as well; for dead and dying, and, yes our grief is very much a part of the process we call "Life".

Table of Contents

• A TRILOGY
• A Swift Mind
• A Hole In My Soul
• A Note Of Fear
• My Sisters
• The Wedding
• The Pill Jar
• Fitting The Bill
• A Twisted Cross
• Pulling Her Weight
• Rights Of Survival
• On Criticism
• Blowing Off Steam
• Empty Threats
• An Open Door
• A Mid-Night Shift
• A Coffee Break
• Restless Nights
• Sweet Dreams
• A Holy Flight
• A Sad Note
• Unfnished Business
• Call Me
• A Heavenly Gift
• Beyond The Veil
• Going My Way
• The Visitor
• The Last Slipper
• Cinderella
• Choices
• Rose Of Light
• Welcome Home!
• Fifteen Spirits
• To A Deaf Ear
• Vanity Fair
• A Mother's Strife
• Forget Me Not
• To Vita De Vita
• To An Olivet
• To Father Shorn
• A Mother's Psalm
• A Daughter's Blessing
• A Soul Let Go
• A Christmas Log
• A Loving Son
• On Change
• Out Of Touch
• A Torn Soul
• My Angel
• Coping
• From A Cold Heart
• My Family
• A Sigh Of Love
• A Night Of Dark Grey
• An Unbroken Promise
• Middle of Document
• A MESSAGE FROM SOLOMON*
• A Screaming Heart
• A Floating Tear
• Three Little Words
• An Apology
• A Karmic Street
• A Matriarchal Sigh
• A Valley Of Tears
• A Mountain Of Faith
• A Recurring Dream
• Mourning Friendship
• Games
• An Empty Groove
• A Coded Message
• A Vital Sign
• A Weakened State
• Resurrecting The Dead
• The Signet
• A Silvery Blessing
• Guardian Mother
• The Seventh Week
• Mother Of Mystical Light
• Sister Fate
• Old Memories
• A Thankful Bunch
• I Remember Momma
• A Deadly stare
• A Death Mask
• First Glance
• God's Hands
• A Weary Soul
• Sonnet Of Gold
• Fine'

A TRILOGY
(To The One I Love)

My mother's death,
Should not be in vein,
And my experience with it,
Should not go for naught.

And so I write a poem or two,
I write down my thoughts,
A trilogy for you.

You were gentle and kind,
And had a swift mind,
An earthly mother to me,

Now that suites me fine!

These poems,
Are not meant to console;

They are meant,
To fill a hole in my soul.

My mother yells,
He cannot hear.

It doth provoke a note of fear.

My sister, My sister,
They find me strange;
I am amused,
They have not changed.

They seem too harsh,
And sometimes cold;
And very often,
They think I'm bold.

I went to a wedding,
Just yesterday;
'Twas in the month of November,
The twentieth day.

Her name was Melissa,
Now she's Mrs. Fay.

A stunning bride,
She did make;
But within three weeks,
I'll go to mom's wake.

I remember one morning,
Oh! how she was upset;
Found her pill jar,
Ran out of Darvesett.

I need it! I need it!
She cried out in pain;
Would not take my father's,
Now that was insane.

Okay ma --- Okay!
I offered a plea;
Take his, take his,
Oh, do it for me.

We'll go to the druggist,
And get prescription filled;
Dear God, Please take her,
Cause mother's quite ill.

Now why am I telling,
This story of woe?
Cause it happens too often,
To those who let go.

In all of her anger,
She's mad at my dad,

I'll owe him nothing,
Be not sorry, not sad.

I'll pay him back,
For everything lost;
Cause he wants the money,
I'll carry my cost.

And all of this said,
In a tiny pink pill;
Mom's found a way,
She's a fitt'en the bill.

What a great burden,
To carry one's cross;
A coin tipped in favor,
Cause mother is boss.

And dad, poor dad,
What a terrible loss;
For now he must carry,
His own twisted cross.

Oh! she was the strong one,
Make no mistake;

And destiny has it,
She's pull'en her weight.

A Policy written,
A will out of date;
Rights of survival,
Bound to a mate.

Criticize, criticize,
That's all he could do,
But she ran the house;
He knew it, he knew.

He blew it, he blew it,
While mate and I were there;
I was in tears,
And she in despair.

He blew it, he blew it,
Cause he was unfair;
My father, my father,
Cause he didn't care.

Your wasting away,
Your starving to death;
I'll give you three weeks,
Sounds of regret!

Your cripple, your cripple,
I heard father say;
I'm going up north,
I'm leaving today.

OH NO! --- OH NO!
Please don't do that!

I knew what she meant,
Father's running away;
But I am so grateful,
Cause father did stay.

Words do have power,
And his were quite sharp;
But I will never forget,
How he stabbed mother's heart.

She wanted him there,
To die in his arms;
She needed her husband,
With all of his charms.

Don't leave me, don't leave me,
'Twas inside of her head;
Cause mother was wishing,
To die in his bed.

What is death?
But an opened door;
Death must come,
To both rich and poor;

My mother died,
The other day;
And for her release,
I did pray.

Four/Five,
It read,
On calendar wall,
'Twas not my death,
That did befall,
A lonely heart,
A mother to all.

Made her coffee,
Did it, real, real, slow;
Started by tradition,
Fifty-six years ago;

And one night I did it for her,
So she could go to bed;
And feared that in the morning,
I would find her dead.

Next night,
I did it for her,
She thanked me for the break;
And when I went to bed that night,
I prayed her soul to take.

Restless nights, I had;
A tossing to and fro,
I recognized this feeling,
The feel of spirit's woe;

My restless nights they started,
Perhaps a year ago;
And now I know the reason,
'Twas planned a tear ago.

But now I sleep more soundly,
And 'tis because of her,
For I know she's glad,
Though I feel sad--
What more can I say,
What more can I add.

In dreams we meet,
And they are sweet;
Her mission here she did complete;
A garland of roses lay at her feet,
As we walk down a one-way street.

I spoke to her late last night,
And asked her about her holy flight;
She responded in earthly tone.

I am so glad, she said, to be at home.
My fear is gone, I have no dread,
Billowy clouds, they support my head.

I rest in peace,
I am not dead;
I'm not alone,
So do not fret,
I have not one---
Not one regret.

I paid you back,
I'm up to date,
Gave up the house,
Before it's too late.

I left a bill,
Cause I was ill;
Jil, you'll find it,
On the sill.

Call Me!
For we can talk,
As if by phone;
Call me there,
I'm under God's dome.

And we'll converse,
'Till two or three;
Because you are still near to me.

You have my gift,
I give it thee;
It's in your head,
Come sit with me.

For you can see me,
I know you can;
I have inherited,
A promised hand.

Reach for it when you see,
Dear child of God,
I wait for thee.

The breath of life,
I do have;
It fills the air,
When I am there;
So do not say,
'Tis not fair.

A life I had,
Beyond compare;
I could not speak,
I did not dare.

A heart not cold,
Yet beating still;
Beyond the veil,
Beyond yon' hill.

I loved you then,
I love you still;
But please remember,
This was God's will.

Oh, my daughter,
She said to me:
It's more beautiful here
Than I ever imagined.

But what are you doing here?
Her spirit did say.
I hope, I hope,
You're not here to stay?

And I smiled a smile:--
In a telepathic way;
No ma! --- not yet,
Just going your way.

What are you doing here?
Her spirit did say.
I've come to visit,
My queen of the day.

What are you doing here?
Her spirit did say.
And I answered like this:
I'm preparing the way.

What are you doing here?
Oh! what have I done!
Oh Ma! Don't worry!
Come to visit your sun.
Then added a twinkle:
Isn't it fun.

What are you doing here?
Oh, what did you say?
I nodded my head,
A most silent way.

But how? But how?
Don't make me upset!
I'm telling you Ma,
In my own special way,
A spirit I am,
By your light,
Called a day.

Stop making me mad,
I'll pick up a slipper,
I'm cracking a joke, Ma,
I'm making you chipper.

Oh! my Kathleen,
You do have a way;
You bring a smile to my lips,
You brighten my.

That's good Ma! That's good!
It's all been approved,
Your making your picture,
Your setting the mood,
To speak to the others,
As we're doing now;
It is my job,
I'm just showing you how.

'Tis Good! 'Tis Good!
Got spirit to laugh,
Excellent recovery,
Get well --- soon --- fast.

I'm here as a visitor,
Can go no higher;
Up a staircase to heaven,
We're down to the wire.

I'm here as a visitor,
My queen of the ball;
Her name's Cinderella,
And she's ten feet tall.

I'm here as a visitor,
A telegraph wire;
A slipper of glass,
A mid-night flyer.

I'm here as a visitor,
Sweet lady divine;
I'm in your soul,
As you are to mine.

I'm here as a visitor,
To stitch up time;
By the stroke of mid-night,
Her soul doth shine.

I'm here as a visitor,
To stitch up time;
Your name's Cinderella,
Your a lady sublime.

I know God's love,
And I give it thee.
For without the body,
I now am free,
To roam the heavens,
Or to stay with thee.

I have many choices,
For I am blessed;
I'll see you soon,
I'll do my best.

But for now,
For now,
I need my rest.

And when I wake,
I'll pick my dress;
And put it on,
I can do no less.

I'll chose my vehicle,
It shall be Kess;
For I'm coming back
To a new address.

A female then,
I shall be;
And I'll look your way,
When you call to me.

Reverent Mother,
My Rose of Light,
As royal as the purple night.

A star did burst upon the plane,
I walked with her,
I shared her flame.

For we did see it;
I was there;
A choir of angels,
Songs and prayer.

They did chant;
Up a bridge to heaven;
A fifty-two-degree slant.
'Twas a huge procession,
Meant for a queen;
In a land not here;
But in-between.

Flocks gathered to greet her,
She did not roam,
And over and over,
The sang Welcome Home.

And this was followed
By tomes and trumpet blasts;
They sang in unison,
The first and the last.

Their queen had left them,
by the sea,
A pillar of salt,
Preservest thou me.

'Twas a long journey,
She did partake;
But return she did,
This was her fate.

She kept her promise,
She kept her date,
She returned home,
She was not late.

And spokes were added
To this aster of light;
Her soul's complete,
She remains bright.

They sang, they sang:
"You're not alone"
Over and over--
As they welcomed her home.

But at a certain point,
I could go no higher;
But they all came to greet her,
In this I am no liar.

And she knew it;
She knew it;
As I flew to her side;
But when I got there,
Her spirit was outside.

Fifteen spirits
Beside an earthy bed;
But in heaven there were thousands;
They formed a crown about her head.

I raised my voice,
I yelled at him;
But please remember,
'Twas not in sin.

He could not hear me,
If I did not;
Please do the same,
It is his lot.

Dear husband, I loved you,
I really did;
But I got here first
and
You did not win.

Good-by, good-by,
See ya next year,
Do it, do it,
Get rid of fear.

I dreaded death all my life,
And know about my mother's strife;

Could not say good-by,
Did not seem right.

'Twas a vigil, I kept for them,
I prayed each night,
And saw them in their robes of light.
And with every passing year,
I became more depressed,
Because I felt they were not blessed;

This was because no priest had come,
While elder sister was on the run;
Mom was not given her last request,
Dear God, we tried, We did our best.

And so I promised both God and them,
That "I" would do it,
This was my test!
And because I did---
I am ten times blessed.

I made a promise,
To them, you see;
To forget them not,
During Holy Tree.

'Twas at Christmas,
I cried the most;
She was not given
The holy host.
And so I baked a fig or two,
As a reminder of who loved who.

My mom loved dad,
The day she died;
And left behind,
Six who cried.

I was the youngest,
Eleven of age,
Could you not imagine,
My unholy rage.

But I fought against this,
My whole life,
And said a rosary,
To the love of my life.

+

And Joseph my father,
I also did add;
His name means addition;
Five cents made us glad.

Remember the Olive,
Remember my name;
Remember this Christmas,
Remember my shame.
A pit in my stomach,
I could not remove;
An ache in my heart,
No one could soothe.

A wounded heart,
A broken knee;
Dear God I loved him,
He died for me.

A spear in my side,
The birth of a name;
I shared his cross,
My soul doth tame.

Remember the Olive,
Remember his name;
Remember at Christ-Mass,
The birth of a flame.

Now Joseph loved Jesus,
Of this I am told;
I'll remember his story,
When I am real old.

That priest was wrong.
I did not sin.

Father Shorn:--
She doth win!

Silent night, holy night,
And Ave Marie.
Dark night and bright light,
Her soul doth sing to me:

For sin is in the minds of men,
And multiplies, ten by ten.

Two four, six, eight;
I'll meet you by the pearly gate.

I know your trouble,
And I know your strife;
God bless my mother,
She led a good life.

I feel your sorrow,
And I can feel your woe;
But said to them,
Let her go!

Some tape they put,
Upon her mouth; Not a whisper,
Not even a pout.

A tube was placed,
To give her air;
But when I looked,
She was not there.

A pump was placed,
Inside her chest;
And this they did,
For someone blessed.

My dad was shaky;
Kess wheeled in a chair;
And Rita cried:--
'Tis not fair!

One minute I had her--
Next, she's not there.

Hank stood beside,
The doorway frame;
Jil's go'n home,
Her soul to tame.

'Twas a long car ride;
A trip out of hell,
And ten minutes back,
Via ma bell.

Sat outside,
With brother Moe;
Because I knew,
He was feeling so low.

He quoted some passage,
Scripture and verse;
He's a little mixed-up,
No time to rehearse.

Dad, Dad
Moe troubled to say:--
Do me a favor,
Do it today!

What do you want son?
I heard father say.
Tell her you love her,
Do it today!

Yes he was the catalyst;
He knew him the best;
Like father like son,
Both put to the test.

For we each have our purpose,
I'm glad Moe was there,
He gave mom her gift,
Presented with care.
'Twas the fourth of December,
Wrapped in delight,
A father well lit;
A day without fight.

Expected a change,
From mother and dad;
And all I could think was--
Oh! Moe! How foolish!
How sad!

Sounds rather strange,
For a sister to tell,
Cause most of all,
I just wanted to yell.

Dad said I love you,
Just a little to late;
And Mom's in there dying,
And you think that's great.

Out of touch with reality,
Out of step with the date,
Cause this is the change,
Dad's a wee bit too late.
And what if he said it?
Three weeks ago---perhaps more,
Mom would have fainted,
Right there on the floor.

He gave her the time,
She needed the most,
Was not ready, you see,
To give up the ghost.

But I'll always remember,
I'll never forget;
That out of us all,
He loved her the most.

And my soul is torn,
Cause I set her free;
And I am the messenger,
Give liberty.

I rode a silver thread,
And stood beside her bed;
And her memory taunts me,
My mother is dead!

I am the Lord's messenger,
I travel by night;
Twelve twenty a.m.,
A dark mid-night flight.
I am the Lord's messenger,
And she's still in my head;
I brought her to heaven,
My angel's not dead.

My angel, my angel,
She sat by my bed;
My child of God,
A mother not dead.

My angel, my angel,
She flew away;
A bird of paradise.

Not on my Christmas,
But on the 5th day.

Let's cope With death and dying,
Let's turn on T.V.

Let's cope With death and dying,
Set up a Christmas tree.

Was not as troubled
An in-law did say;
Get on with your life,
And forget this foolish strife.
And all I could answer:

This is my life!

Ted hid himself in a room,
But a week ago, he was the groom.

His wife remained by her mother's side.
She was not afraid,
She did not hide,
But a week ago she was the bride.

And Rita, dear Rita,
She lost the most;
And her husband Jon,
He was the host.

A Mexican hat dance,
He did preform.
For a mom in sorrow,
And a father torn.

But two weeks later,
I saw a golden chest;
Out came the host,
Shorn and he blest.

Ralph, poor Ralph,
He could not stay;
He left the hospital,
Went home to pray.

Of sister Jil,
I do not boast;
Said a eulogy,
To a holy ghost.

Hank was there,
He set the tone;
An emotional fellow,
You're not alone.

One hug from him,
Wipes out despair;
A silent way of saying:--
Yep, I do care.

My mom she loved him,
Was in black and white;
He's back on track,
He's got a good life.

Marie felt most depressed,
She sighed a sigh,
She did her best;
She's Grandma's child,
The first she blessed.

And Hank the miller,
He held his pride;
A Mellow fellow,
He turned the tide.
Less acted ...
As if he were not there,
He grieves in silence,
Emotional despair.

Rubie, sweet Rubie,
She's got quite a voice;
For Grandma's son,
Made a sound choice.

And of the friends,
I remember most,
I'll list a few,
And give a toast:

To Michelle, and Joseph
And daughter Aubrey;
Did a dish, but after three.

To Joanne and Troy,
They're friends of Vee;
And Susan and Vance,
A picturesque hand.

To Mary Reganno, and
All of her clan;
Makes a mean pie,
Lemon meringue.

To Rose Ganto,
And daughter Mary Ann,
A life long friend;
Doth love withstand?

And also the Quordo's Jerry and Phil;
And mother Mary, who was
Wheeled in real slow.

And what about the writer?
What about her mate?
Shall I write about an achy heart,
Or tell about her state.

My husband, my husband,
Noticed nursing staff;
He remains silent,
But a lest he did not laugh.

My son, My son,
Came for the wake,
They did it, they did it;
But only for my sake.

A SIGH OF LOVE

And my dad, my dad,
He held her by her hand;
And this is what he said to her,
As she walked through promised land.

But before I tell his story,
I want you all to know,
I tell it with a sigh of love,
Instead of with a glow.
My dad, he did speak to her,
His voice was real real low,
And what he said,
He could have said,
Three calmer days ago,

And she was quite immobile,
Could not move an inch,
Heavily sedated,
Eyes that did not wince.

Flat on her back,
On a one way track;
Head straight ahead,
A karma to be led.

Did not look back,
Nor turn his way,
On the fourth of December,
A night of dark grey;

He moved her head,
Come look at me;
Three little word:-- I love thee.

I love you, I love you,
I heard our dad say,
'Twas the month of December;
On the fourth day.

An unbroken promise,
A vow to be said,
Vain man, why keep it,
Inside of thy head.

A vow yet unbroken,
Said in ninety-three;
A woman's heart a token,
Her silence stays with thee.

"We've fulfilled our only dream," he whispered in her ear. "We have four children. One just as beautiful than the first. We're all here beside you. You are my queen, and we have created a kingdom here on earth."

"This is only the beginning," he told her. "There are more things to come. A king with all his riches couldn't have all that you have given me. Generations and generations shall come after us. And it's all because of you---because you shall live on in them."

"No one has ever understood me," he said to her. "But you understand me. We made it," he cried out. "We made it." We're all here."

(Except for Mom).

She heard him!
She heard him!
A tear misunderstood;

She heard him!
She heard him!
In a word of good;

She heard him!
She heard him!
Her heart let out a scream;

She heard him!
She heard him!
On monitor of green!

A day to remember,
I'll never forget;
A soul wrenched in sorrow,
Filled with regret;

I'm sorry, I'm sorrow,
For things I did say;
As one tiny tear,
Floated his way.

'Twas the month of December
On the fifth day.

And this is the moral,
I tell it with fear;
Do it today!
Don't wait for next year!

Three little words,
A woman wants to hear,
'Tis not I love you;

But-- I AM SORRY --- My dear.

Apology not needed?
Keep it on a shelf,
Repentance still unheeded;
Feel sorry for one's self.

Apology not needed?
There was no intent;
A hurt gone by unheeded,
Oh men they do invent.

Apology not needed?
Then why do fathers cry?
Apology unheeded?
Why do mothers die?

And why do we
Repeat their life,
Why do daughters try,
And why do women,
Find it hard,
To ever say good-bye.

And why do sons Keep running,
A Mystery doth lie,
In dreams they repeat,
A life bitter-sweet,
As we all walk down
A karmic street.

'Tis the words I love you,
In God's paternal eye,
And the breath of life eternal,
In matriarchal sigh.

A valley of tears,
Beyond golden years;
A secret love well hid.

A galley of fears,
Lasted three years;
A hidden ill to rid.

A rally of words,
A five minute spread;
All of us strained,
Near Memorial bed.

Lips that did move,
A thought to decipher;
Her frustration was great,
Just made her hyper.

A surgical question,
Answer in head;
Two hours later,
Mother was dead.

A mountain of faith;
So gentle, so great;
A God misunderstood.

A city of lights;
So brilliant, so bright;
A God of ultimate good.

My mother's death;
A recurring dream;
My heart is hurt;
I want to scream.

I'm so busy,
I'm so busy,
I have so much to do;

I'm so busy,
I'm so busy,
Don't have time for you.

A mother's ploy,
A silence well spent;
A father's joy,
An anger to vent.

The loss of a mother,
Like an empty groove;

And the need to fill it,
By getting close to mate;
Let's do it right now,
Before it's too late.

Blue Code, No code,
What are we to do;

Blue Code, No Code,
As we sat in conference room;

Blue Code, No Code,
A term mis-understood.

To save a life,
And prolong her strife,
No quality control.

To end a life,
An give up wife,
What's a man to do?

After the surgery,
I met a nurse in hall;
And this is what she said to me,
It's what I do recall.

Your mom's doing poorly,
Nurse Margaret said to me,

What does that mean?
I did ask of her, then.

Her vitals are dropping,
She may not last till ten.

Spoke to cardiologist,
Explained her weakened state;
Stopped the operation,
The strain was just too great;

Her heart beat was dropping,
They closed here real, real fast;
Her vitals were a crashing,
They gave up hope at last.

Resurrect the dead?
A thing to make you mad;
New medical marvels;
A 20th century fade.

Resurrecting the dead!
A thing to cause alarm,
Medical marvels;
A thing that causes harm.

Came time to sign the paper,
A thing dad couldn't do;
So I did it for him,
Responsible for two.

I asked for the paper,
Insisted on a pen;
And when I started writing,
He seized control again.

I can't let you do it,
This is mine to do;
Exasperated signet,
Signed for me and you.

Yes, he signed the paper,
Cause doctors gave up hope;
Kathleen is youngest,
And father is no dope.

Saw her again,
And she was quite whole;
Standing with Jesus,
In silvery bold.

She was much younger,
A sight to behold;
He gave his blessing,
On a 55 year old.

Guardian Mother,
A Rose in the sky;
This was a blessing,
Made me feel high.

Guardian Mother,
Seen in a bed,
Mother, sweet mother,
'Twas seen in my head.

Guardian Mother,
Her hand he did hold;
Symbolical gesture,
A light to console.

I've said what I wanted,
'Tis all in black and white;

My grieving is over,
Getting back to my life;

I'm back to my writing,
A sigh of relief;

'Tis their anniversary,
God bless the seventh week.

Black light, dark night,
The Mother of my soul;

Bright light, holy flight,
It's you who doth console.

I thought it was over,
I was out of my head;

Two months later,
Aunt Josie was dead.
Died on her birthday,
Sweet sister of fate.

A family connected,
Now---We're all up to date.

I went to Aunt Josie's funeral,
Just late last night;
It brought back,
Old memories;
Those I did not write.

And so, here I am,
I'm at it again;
A slip of the tongue,
A wisp of the pen.

I feel so useless,
Our mother did cry,
Way back in November,
Ten days before she died.

Your not! Your not!
Never to me!
Want do you want ma?
I give it to thee.
I just want it easy,

Oh, Just for once!
Let's set out some plastic,
For the whole garl-darn bunch.

You can fool all the others,
But ya can't fool me;
I said it to her,
'Twas said my her sink.

So she sat down,
On a kitchen chair,
Her arms were outstretched,
Mom I really care.

Please let me help you!
I whispered to her;
I want to call a doctor,
An ambulance or two.

But she would not have it,
I'll stay here with you;
And this is when we hugged,
For a minute or two.

And this is most painful,
For me to write this down;
I REMEMBER HER KISS,
I REMEMBER HER GOWN,
And when I see that picture

I REMEMBER THAT FROWN.

Now, death has a way,
Of looking at you;

The eyes seem quiet cold,
Never grey, never blue.

It's a deadly stare,
And it looks straight at you;
Men of war beware,
It could happen to you.

Every time I looked at her,
This is what I seen:
She was wearing her death mask,
Looks like --- light creme.

If you are a psychic,
You'll know what I mean;
I call it Dumb Body,
Not seen in a dream.

When we arrived in Florida,
It was very late;
She was still sleeping,
Alone in her bed.
And so I glance inward,
I opened her door;
'Twas early morning,
One hour before four.

When I first set eyes on her,
This is what I thought;
Oh! My God!
My mom's dying.

Cause when I saw her aura,
This is what I saw:
Her aura, her aura,
Just wasn't there;
Be careful, be careful,
Just say a little prayer.

Tipped-Toed in,
And said hello to her;
Kissed her on her forehead,
And she returned a grin.

Couldn't get much sleep that night,
And every night I stayed;
Cause every time I closed my eyes,
I prayed and prayed and prayed.

And she was coming to me,
To tell me of her plans;
She had left it you see---
It was all in God's good hands.

I'm tired, I'm tired,
That's all she would say;
And I did confirm this,
Cause her aura looked grey.

She's weary, she's weary,
Couldn't sleep a wink;
Her flesh tone was fading,
No sign of pink.

This is her story,
It shall be told;
'Twas written by a daughter,
Eleven year old.

A daughter's love,
It shall not die;
A mother's love,
Never good-by.

This is our inheritance,
A sonnet of gold;
Pass it on, pass it on,
A Rose will unfold.

Fine'

In Loving Memory
I'm thinking of you
And I always will
Because I LOVE YOU!

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