Don’t Forget My Bangs!

“Okay Mom, how do you want it today?”

“Should I tease it, curl it, what do ya say?”

“I think we should color it, what do ya think?”

“These are the questions, I asked her each week.”

“I really don’t care, what you do will be fine,”

“Just don’t forget my bangs, like you did last time.”

“Okay Mom, I’ll remember your bangs I’ll never forget again.”

“No need to say it, it’s burned in my brain.”

That’s the way it was for twenty some years,

Trying to get it through to her and relinquish her fears.

For some crazy reason, her bangs had to be,

Down on her forehead so she would be pleased.

She was my mother and I loved her so much,

We were so close, she had that magic touch.

One of her hugs was like a Godly embrace.

And her kiss on the cheek was satin and lace.

Now at the parlor, I stood looking at her.

Her eyes closed forever like in very deep prayer.

Doing her hair as she asked me to do,

Refusing her many times but loving her too.

This has got to be the hardest thing, I’ve ever done,

Doing her hair and feeling so numb.

Why did she ask me to do something so tough?

Was it too prove my strength, when things got too rough?

Combing her out as she was laying there,

Trying to get through it by saying a prayer.

I jumped as the chapel bells began to clang,

Hearing her words so softly,

“Don’t forget my bangs!”

Written for my dear Mother, I won’t ever forget her or her bangs.