My Mother Is The Strongest Soul
© Surazeus
2019 01 28
I hate putting her in this nursing home,
my mother who was strong and independent
all her life, whose husband walked out the door
and left her to raise three children alone
when she was twenty six in Sixty Nine,
and worked for forty four years in the bank.
She started working as the secretary
to the bank manager, then worked her way
up the ladder of responsibility
till she retired as the bank manager,
keeping it in business through every crisis
and recession of the national economy.
The humble honest women of America
like my mother, who always do their duty,
and will work every day without complaint,
maintain the money machine of our nation
while raising new generations of children,
yet we take their contributions for granted.
My mother is the strongest soul I know,
raising three children while working all day
to pay the bills and prepare food for meals,
and making sure I do my homework well,
so it breaks my heart to see her so weak,
helpless and dependent on me for care.
Following her example, I work hard
as an insurance analyst every day
while raising two children now starting school,
but even with you, my husband, to help
with cooking meals and doing household chores,
I cannot take care of my mother too.
I hate putting her in the nursing home,
my mother who was strong and independent,
but I need help with my daily routine
to give her the quality care she needs,
so I must leave her in this small sad room
to live out the rest of her days alone.
Her memories of the phases of her life,
her childhood playing with friends by the river,
her school years studying business finance,
her career managing savings and loans,
her free time raising us and reading novels,
are scrambled out of order that makes sense.
We all write straight narrative of our lives
to imbue meaning on random events
so we star in Our Movie we direct,
but the story in our minds falls apart
as we deteriorate when our bodies decay,
so we do some things, then we die forgotten.
She lived her life while I was growing up
and savored all the pleasures she could find,
but now I must live while she fades away
and savor all my pleasures while I can,
for one day soon I will also grow old,
and lie forgotten in sad nursing home.
I hate to leave you in this living death,
but you deserve relaxation you earned,
so gaze out that window glowing with light
and drift in sunlit memories of your childhood,
then dream of living in Heaven with God,
though I am no longer sure that is real.
© Surazeus
2019 01 28
I hate putting her in this nursing home,
my mother who was strong and independent
all her life, whose husband walked out the door
and left her to raise three children alone
when she was twenty six in Sixty Nine,
and worked for forty four years in the bank.
She started working as the secretary
to the bank manager, then worked her way
up the ladder of responsibility
till she retired as the bank manager,
keeping it in business through every crisis
and recession of the national economy.
The humble honest women of America
like my mother, who always do their duty,
and will work every day without complaint,
maintain the money machine of our nation
while raising new generations of children,
yet we take their contributions for granted.
My mother is the strongest soul I know,
raising three children while working all day
to pay the bills and prepare food for meals,
and making sure I do my homework well,
so it breaks my heart to see her so weak,
helpless and dependent on me for care.
Following her example, I work hard
as an insurance analyst every day
while raising two children now starting school,
but even with you, my husband, to help
with cooking meals and doing household chores,
I cannot take care of my mother too.
I hate putting her in the nursing home,
my mother who was strong and independent,
but I need help with my daily routine
to give her the quality care she needs,
so I must leave her in this small sad room
to live out the rest of her days alone.
Her memories of the phases of her life,
her childhood playing with friends by the river,
her school years studying business finance,
her career managing savings and loans,
her free time raising us and reading novels,
are scrambled out of order that makes sense.
We all write straight narrative of our lives
to imbue meaning on random events
so we star in Our Movie we direct,
but the story in our minds falls apart
as we deteriorate when our bodies decay,
so we do some things, then we die forgotten.
She lived her life while I was growing up
and savored all the pleasures she could find,
but now I must live while she fades away
and savor all my pleasures while I can,
for one day soon I will also grow old,
and lie forgotten in sad nursing home.
I hate to leave you in this living death,
but you deserve relaxation you earned,
so gaze out that window glowing with light
and drift in sunlit memories of your childhood,
then dream of living in Heaven with God,
though I am no longer sure that is real.
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