Mom
Some claim at last breath
One’s entire life flashes before you—
No way to know for sure
It happens too late to confirm.
Did Mother see
Fifteen children
Fourteen births
Thirteen first communions
Twelve Marriages
Eleven confirmations
Ten Hail Marys
Nine graduations
Eight siblings
Seven daughters
Six sons
Five homes
Four seminarians
Three divorces
Two deaths
One re-marriage?
Her life was more than her children,
But, by sheer numbers,
They consumed her
Thoughts, deeds, and energy.
When most exhausted, she learned
Love, kindness and caring
Replenished more than they took.
Can’t say that for changing diapers,
Settling fights,
Making breakfast, cooking dinner,
Preparing supper for so many—
No breaks for Sabbath or Sunday
For forty-five years.
She’d tell you family came first
After God and Jesus who coolly demanded to be
First. It was in her garden she felt most
Herself, but herself was family and God.
I studied
Washington, Napoleon, Alexander
Lincoln, Jefferson, Madison
Jesus, Buddha, and Zoroaster—
Not one could have mothered thirteen,
Praised God every day
while raising one hundred
Chickens and an acre or two of garden.
Copyright © Michael Pedretti | Year Posted 2025
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