She Was Eighty Eight
She was 88, had many ailments, arthritis, skin problems, frozen shoulder, dry cough and acidity to name a few.
She kept her woes to herself, bore it all silently, she would only spread happiness, smile in her face never faded.
She would wake up 4:30 in the morning and make her own coffee, she didn't want to disturb anybody.
She not only did all her chores, but served others till the end, her life was a saga of selfless service.
She would stay awake full night for others, yet be fresh enough to work whole next day, she could go on like this for many days.
She was an epitome of wisdom, cooking, festivals home remedies, she knew all about all of them.
She read books,solved kakuro and word search, she knew the importance keeping mind busy.
Impeccable in her dress, perfectionist in her work, ever cool and calm, she had tons of inner strength.
I remember her last day, she had fever, I told her wake me up for morning coffee, "Don't think you are disturbing me."
She smiled and said "l will not have it", Oh! The divine smile still vivid in my memory.
She passed away next morning like the way she wanted, without troubling anybody.
She was like a banyan tree vast in wisdom and steady, she would always amaze me.
I wish I was like her, but I can't, I am nowhere near! she had God like qualities.
Copyright © Rama Balasubramanian | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment