My mom wrote this poem for Linnie. I have had conversations with my mom about your mom, and how difficult it has been for your mom to leave her home and everything that she has. My mom sent me this poem to give to Linnie, but I didn't, I felt like it would just make it harder for her to leave. I will let you read it now, - I should of given it to her.
(My mom writing to me)
I have been thinking about our conversation on Sunday night, I am gettingtoo close for comfort to the same thing and feel for your sister.
I wrote this for Linnie if you think she would like it. I started to read
it to dad and couldn't for goodness sake!!
He said "Do you want me to tell you who to send this too?"
I said "Who?"
"All of them," he said.
No I'll just have it in my history in my "poetry" section.
Just Things
³Just things,² you said, they¹re my life you know.
I want them to follow where ere I go.
They¹re echoes of happier days I deem
Much more to me, than to you, they seem.
The record player with love¹s sweet sound,
Things like this I want around!
The tapes and videos and slides galore
They tell me I won¹t need anymore.
The books in my library I seldom read
Now you want them gone with lightening speed.
The rows of pictures on my wall
Are now not needed it seems at all.
The scrap books and keepsakes that are so dear
No one wants them now I fear.
The children¹s table under the stair,
Is much too old, even for repair.
The dishes and pans in cupboards kept ---
The easy chair where grandpa slept ---
All can be replaced by something new
It all depends on your point of view.
The toy box filled with half broken toys
The silent house without any noise
The kitchen table once overflowing
Now is empty -- and it too is going.
Just things you say? You can¹t erase
The time when everything had it¹s place.
Memories grow stronger through the years
As we fondly remember with silent tears.
Norma L. Smith October 2008
--
Kimball Findlay Ed.S.
kc4rzw@gmail.com
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