"Of all the mothers kind and true, You're the best and I love you." These were the words I spoke as a boy. They filled mother's heart with pride and with joy. That was third grade, from then 'til she died, I never said I loved her because of my pride. Let me tell you, she's the best there could be. Don't know why she cared so much for me. I was a stupid, selfish, insensitive kid. The most precious feelings, inside me I hid. Until mother died on that cold winter night, She loved me so dearly, with all of her might. I recall the time before running a race, She walked up to me with such love in her face. She prayed I'd give my best effort that day. That she'd know how to help me in any way. Running, I felt so tired, I slowed down my pace. But just then I could see her loving face. She cheered me on in the rain that night Because of her I put up a great fight. I owe my success that night in the rain To my wonderful mother, but in my heart there's still pain. She never heard me say these words that were true. I just couldn't tell her "Mom, I love you." The day before her surgery I remember quite well. This experience I share, it pains me to tell. I got home from school, I walked through the door. Mom had cleaned the house, not a speck on the floor. I plopped on the couch, a magazine I read. I snapped at my mom, "What must I do to get fed?" While in the kitchen preparing my meal She sliced open her finger, that wound never healed. I then helped her stop the blood from within I resented it though, in my heart was much sin. I took for granted the love that she shared. And to show her my love--indeed I was scared. The next day at her bedside she gave me a gift. The present she gave brought me a great lift. I'll tell her I love her, my mouth opened wide, But nothing came out because of my pride. Soon after this they wheeled her away Those three simple words I never did say. As I held mother's hand, her Spirit had fled I looked on her finger, where for me she had bled So that I in my hunger would surely be fed. That is when, "I love you!" I said. But it was too late, mother was dead. I wept for so long there beside her death bed. I've promised myself when my life is past I'll look for my mother, I'll do it so fast. I'll hug her, I'll kiss her, then guess what I'll do. I'll say to her clearly, "Mother, I love you!" Why do I share w/ you mistakes I have made? So you might utter that long overdue phrase. I felt time was running out, near the end of her days, But I was never able my voice to raise Don't wait to tell those you love how you feel Or you may gain many wounds that never will heal. Examine your life, are ye stripped of your pride? How long has it been since you shared what's inside?
Reason for writing:
Brother Todd Parker, this poem is for you. Thank you so much for all the inspiration you gave me at EFY (BYU V) in the Summer of 2000.
Birth sign: Pisces
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