Quod oculus meus videt

By GrahamColling

Roses for Mom

Funeral day.  Bitterly cold outside but warmed by the kind wishes received from people attending the chapel and wake.  We 'enjoyed' the opportunity to celebrate her life and share in memories of a remarkable woman.  Many were completely unaware of her early life, so I took the opportunity in the eulogy to share some old stories.  

Afterwards we displayed some images from various times in her life at the wake.  I've also created a separate journal here on Blipfoto so that other family and friends who could not make the day can share some of her past life.

The celebrant shared some words about mothers in his introduction.  I know they are known to others, but my research failed to find anyone to attribute to the poem:

Your Mother is always with you.
She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.
She's the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick and
perfume that she wore.
She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well.
She's your breath in the air on a cold winter's day.
She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a
rainbow. She is Christmas morning.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter.
She's crystallized in every teardrop.
A mother shows every emotion .......... happiness, sadness, fear,
jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, 
sorrow... and all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the good
feelings in life. She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's 
the map you follow with every step you take.
She's your first love; your first friend, even your first enemy, but
nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space...not 
even death!

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