My Mother Made Her Own Patterns
A pattern? Mom did not need one. She made her own
Like her own jelly, jam, and one time ketchup
When kids came to play, they stuck with her
She was more fun than I was, but a stickler for truth.
She had a sense of humor that would laugh the trees silly
Wasted it on church, perpetually attending everything there
But maybe not a waste. Maybe it was what she needed
Being a mother of twins and a quiet boy
Her quilts were done with tiny stitches
She also quilted, crocheted, tatted,
Loved being a wife and mother
Loved cooking, baking and cleaning
I never figured out how anyone could love cleaning.
She was perpetually vibrant and young.
Youthful in her thinking. A one-of-a-kind woman.
She would do what was right always, stand up to
everyone. She wore integrity like a necklace, not a crown.
We thought she would live to be one hundred and five
like our mean Great Aunt Eudora.
Sadly she did not.
I pick up the phone to call her almost twice a week.
Forgetting she has been gone since January.
It is weird to release a person like this
Obviously, I never can.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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