My Mother My Friend

She did her best, which is better than most She uplifted me when she learned how. When I was younger she taught me work ethic I am proud to say I am still utilizing that talent She was a neat freak but allowed her children freedom Not in the religious realm but everywhere else. I went my own spiritual direction, but was still loved She was the best baker in the universe; I still taste her noodles. Our life was easy, in that our home was well kept Our friends were welcome, but sometimes they went off with Mom She had a keen sense of humor, and entertained them Once found out, she had difficulty shaking them She lived to be eighty-eight, and had eighty-seven great years The last one was not kind to her, cancer is a horrible gift. We did not know; she was secretive and did not burden us That was her way, my mother who eventually became my friend.