No More Handkerchiefs-

I can recall the first time she ever held me in her arms and looked into my eyes… she was more different than anyone else I would ever come to know. It was the way that she touch me, that said to me, no harm would ever come upon you as Iong as I was here... it was the way that she looked at me that told me how deeply she cared. As I got older sometimes I wouldn't always do what she told me to do. Somehow she still managed to let the warmth of her smile still come through, to despite her distain for what I had did, it was a look that said you can do better if you only try? I can’t bring her back to me... as I sit here by her final resting place. As these never ending blue tear drops flow down my face both night and day. Oh how I miss momma and wish that she we’re still here to wipe away my blue tears? If she was still here, I know she would wipe away my blue tears... and she would pull out one of those old handkerchiefs that she kept in her old purse and she would then say to me.., don’t cry my baby everything will be okay. Now blow your nose and let me see that smile on your face? As the six of those elderly men carried her down those steps and as I followed along, just thinking to myself...she can’t be gone? As they started to lower her beautiful white casket into it's final resting place, I did come to realize, no more would I see her smile that would make the pain go away and the boogieman seem like a bad friend misbehaving that when she would appeared he would just run away. Now here I stand a broken hearted man, but I weep like that baby she once knew years ago... I know momma has the Angels smiling and laughing up there? Truly God must have already known there was one Angel still left down here on earth and that he needed them to to come back home, so he called for momma late one February night. God already knew about your warm kisses that could put the suns warmth to shame and he knew about hugs that you could give that put a tight sweater to shame. I miss you momma, I know you are passing out those old handkerchiefs of yours from out of that old purse you use to carry and wiping Angels noses and mending their wings...I miss you mother, but I'm sure they did too.