Spring cleaning the bedroom closet
I come upon a strange  garment bag
Inside two of my moms crocheted shawls
I remove them burying my teary face
In wool which holds her precious scent
How had I missed the bag other times
She has been dead several years

I become engrossed in opaque memories
Unable to see clearly since I didn't want to
I realize I had purposely avoided the bag
Leaving it there meant she would return
Unlike many mother daughter relationships
Ours was good, except for a few years, my fault
The last years before she died were the best

My mother was like a saint, and I loved too much
Trying to emulate her made me the opposite
She never gave up on me, it strengthened my guilt
When I matured  I became more reconciled
Being a mother myself made things clearer
Yet, I had done rotten things without care
Being a cause of great misery to my mother

But her persistence got me over my guilt
I will never forget how forgiving she was
Because my mother practiced what she preached
I was able to forgive myself, and show  reverence
For Creator and all His works not just some things
I could appreciate all of His creation as sacred
I was privileged to have such an exceptional mother

eT

To all mothers,
May you be happy and blessed today and always!