By Rosie Preston
When I began this article, I chose to write a poem expressing my feelings and thoughts. The sky was gray, the thunder was rumbling and the trees were blowing outside my window. My mood matched the weather, as I knew the skies would clear. It was a perfect day to share my feelings about how I miss my mother.
Is it possible I can convey that the world as we knew it has turned upside down? None of us expected we would wake up each day to find a new devastating change concerning the coronavirus. We then faced a heartbreaking situation as the world reacted to the sadness of a man who died while the police were somehow trying to restrain him.
There’s so much we will never understand, but I feel the following quote is accurate: “Morality cannot be legalized.” I believe we have the freedom to choose a path. Will a person find ways to be rude, aggressive, violent and ready for a fight? Even gossip can hurt so many people with words. And why does another person choose to live in peace, tranquility, kindness and love each new day? Many kind people can de-escalate a dangerous situation. I cannot begin to answer those questions, but I know that the New Testament is full of wisdom concerning a person’s future of the rewards and the consequences of either path.
Mother, You Are Greatly Missed
Every baby reacts to a nurturing mother, and her love is free.
Luckily, my mother willingly loved her first baby, me.
As an infant, her eyes held mine.
My innocent infant’s smile was a sign.
Knowing your arms cuddled me so near,
Your heart was gentle to my ear.
Each night gentle darkness from the moon,
Brought sleep as you danced around the room.
Now many years later, I felt your embrace.
Your arms around me as I caressed your face.
“Please, Rosie, don’t leave me,” your sad eyes,
Knowing it was again time for goodbyes.
The promise I gave to return the next day,
Was broken come what may,
In an instant, life changed, and we are apart.
Yet, years of memories still hear my heart.
You spend each day mostly alone.
Your family’s love seems to be gone.
Will it cease to be, what seems like forever?
Our love cannot say the words, never,
Let our love hold us now, as we cling to each other,
Prayerfully, and maybe soon, I can see my dear mother.
Thanks for the many times that you, the reader, got in touch with me sharing your own stories, along with the empathy you’ve shown me. The changes we are living through now will be in the history books many years down the road.
Keep smiling, Rosie
The journaling book is in progress, so send your stories to rosie.preston@yahoo.com.
