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Poem
On a headstone in the ground, 
a life's summation can be found:
born and died and little more
marks the end with an underscore.

Before I die I'd like to say
all that happened along the way.
There's a story to be sure.
Let's begin life's overture.

My life began in celebration;
The War was over across our nation.
A baby boomer I became;
My generation was given that name.

Born on the East coast raised on the West.
Who's to to say, "Father didn't know best"?
Dad's family was left behind
but mother didn't seem to mind.

Childhood was rough and raw.
Money scarce but, from what I saw,
friends and neighbors were in the same boat.
Families worked hard to stay afloat.

We made do with what we had.
In handmade clothes we were clad.
Our imaginations entertained us
while nature's bounty helped sustain us.

Raking, mowing and bottle collecting
provided things we weren't expecting:
to see a movie or buy a mitt.
If you wanted something, you worked for it!

So, I more than survived childhood;
I learned to be all I could.
Two years of college was cause for delay
before I declared Independence Day.

I left my parents; moved far away
excited to do it all my way.
To try my wings without a net,
leaving the nest without regret.

Any job well done is its own reward.
I found many occupations to be explored:
mail carrier, bookkeeper, manager, clerk,
soldier, census taker, service rep, soda jerk.

Made many friends along life's path;
A few have met with life's aftermath.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm still here
but, of death, I have no fear.

Of loves, I've had a few
but the greatest love I ever knew,
is the love of a mother for her son;
With him, my family was begun.

I leave my grandchildren to carry on
the adventure of life when I am gone.
I hope they thrive when they are grown 
in a world much different from my own.

The legacy I leave behind,
I wish to be my words and rhymes.
So, on my gravestone may it say:
"Through her poetry, she came this way".

August 31, 2015
For my family
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