A Mother Remembers
~In memory of my daughter, Sheril Lynn,
 who succumbed to Multiple Sclerosis in 1998

I remember watching her
each morning in dawn’s first light
a tiny tot so fair and pure
rushing  to gobble down mouthfuls
 in trusting childhood enthusiasm
milk dribbling down her dimpled chin
pausing only long enough
to say with a still sleepy smile,
“morning mommy,” and I’d wonder
where does she go, what does she see
after her prayers and slumber’s call
when her blue eyes close each night.

Then she got older, rose later
grumbled over having to eat breakfast
fearing her svelte waistline would disappear
with even one bite, but fruit or yogurt I could
get her to nibble with her lady like grace
and after each bite she’d dab her chin
her delicate makeup applied with such care
must not be smudged, nary a hair out of place
much time was spent in trying to perfect
the already perfection she was
and I’d wonder still...
where does she go, what does she see
when her blue eyes close at night.

At the entering point of the best of her life
a terminal prognosis came knocking at the door
frail and weak she became but inspiring
as she faced her fate as she did her life
head on, strong, willful, and courageous
slowly but surely the illness progressed
and my heart broke more each day
then, all too soon yet not soon enough,
she looked at me like the helpless child she once was,
and I, as I held her close, to face her final sleeping,
through His grace, I knew...
where she went, what she saw
in that final moment
when her blue eyes closed...
for the very last time.

© Marcia Miller-Twiford