Mother’s Day
On the train
No one is reading
Everyone is on the phone
Sending important messages
Telling friends and family
They are on the train.
In the houses we pass
People are getting up
And starting their day
Planning surprise lunches
Flowers and family celebrations
It is Mother’s Day
And I think of you
Just as I do on every other day.
I’m on my way
To meet your grandson
My firstborn
Now a married man
I wish you knew.
Outside the sun is shining
It’s the kind of day
That makes everyone smile.
I’m going to be a grandmother
I wish you knew.
I’m on the train
Travelling between
The life I have now
And my life to come.
Everyone else is still on the phone
And I’ve written this.
Happy mother’s day mum.
………………………………….
Every Day is Mother’s Day
First smile, first laugh, first sweet embrace
The tender way they touch your face
Every day is mother’s day
First sit, first crawl, first tooth, first walk
The joy when they begin to talk
Every day is mother’s day
The fun when they begin to play
The cries when they don’t get their way
Every day is mother’s day
The day they start to question why
And ask what happens when you die
Every day is mother’s day
The climbs, the falls, the hurts, the tears
As they learn to overcome their fears
Every day is mother’s day
The very first day you’re on your own
You take them to school, come home alone
Every day is mother’s day
The very first time they stay out late
And you remember your first date
Every day is mother’s day
And then one day you’re on your own
They’ve fled the nest, the kids have gone
Every day is mother’s day
The love, the joy, the guilt, the pain
The more you give, the more you gain.
You know you’d do it all again
Every day is mother’s day
…………………………………………..
Jokes abound about mothers-in-law. I was lucky with mine. We always got on well and she had a fabulous relationship with our children.
I wrote this poem on 11 October, 2007, just a few days after she died.
After
The grass will still be green
The sky will still be blue
But something will be missing
from the world that we once knew.
The phone will still be ringing
But she won’t be on the line
Who will we tell our news to
like we used to all the time.
The parties will go on
With food and wine and kissing
But there’ll be an empty chair
The one we love is missing.
Our children will grow up
With memories they can share
The world’s the same but different
now their grandma isn’t there.
Hettie Neidle, 24 August 1917 – 5 October 2007
………………………………………….
- I wrote this next poem in 1995, about six months before my mother died.
Role Reversal
Today, I held my mother
sobbing in my arms
Stroking her soft, fine hair
Her chin nuzzled on my chest
And I could smell
the unforgotten fragrance
of her skin
I held her close
as I have held my children
and felt the frailty of her age
How odd and imperceptibly
the tables turn
And those that you have leaned on
lean on you
Those that you had turned to
turn to you
Now she is the child
And I am the mother
Freda Finn, 13 December 1910 – 6 March 1996
© Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems
My Life in Poems 