Mother as a strong, silent rock.
I'll never forget the plastic pink
curlers and the poofy hair she devised
every morning. She went from style to
style from the leopard skin shifts and
shoes of the sixties, from the basic fiftie's
style coctail dress. She was the silent
rock of the foundation of three children.
She took us to church, dressed us for school
made our lunch. Took us to the beach. Let
us have our freedom. Gave us our values
to be kind and honest.
Yet Mother isn't gone even though she's
passed. She's still in the light of the stars,
the rays of sun light in the morning, and at
night in those long hours when I can't sleep
she still holds me.