A Mother’s Grave

The small graveyard sat at the end of the road, beside the small chapel, a mother and son stood in the doorway of the house that stood beside it. They were in a heated discussion and in the graveyard an older man sat on a small fold up stool with a red rose in his hand and when the boy walked by he called him over…

“Sorry son but I just couldn’t help but overhear

The words with your dear Mother you did share…”

That you couldn’t wait till you were older

Then you would get a place all your own

You said you wished for another Mother

Or that it was just you and Dad alone

She tried to explain why she made the rules

Love for you guided her decisions every day

She was not trying to win a popularity contest

And she sure as hell wasn’t in it for the pay

You said that you didn’t care about that

Why can’t she just get it into her head

You’d just do what you wanted to do

And mumbled I wish you were dead

Now son, this is what I want to tell you

And I hope you listen real, damn good

You should be careful what you wish for

It’s something not always understood

You see I spoke like that to my own Mom

Must have been thirty years ago today

I was just about your age if I recall

I never knew the price I’d have to pay

For Mom passed away a short time later

I never even got the chance to say goodbye

Or to thank her for all she’d done for me

She was just gone in the blink of an eye

So each year I place this rose upon her stone

Sit and share with her my life this way

Son now go and tell your Mom you love her

And will until your dying day…