I need my mother to:
Tell me I’m a good mom;
Reassure me that I’m doing right by my daughters;
Help me with a favorite recipe;
Calm me when I’m angry with my husband;
Teach me how to knit;
Sing with my sisters and me;
Sew my baby another quilt;
Kiss me good night.
Damn you, Death.
I'm so sorry. It won't help, but you're doing right with your girls; stopping yelling at your hubby, he loves you; I can't teach you how to knit; I'd sing but I'm not there with you right now; I don't quilt; and I can't kiss you good night either, but I can pray for you. And I will.
((HUGS)) I was 31 when I lost my mother. My son was 3 and my daughter was about 10 months old.I feel you pain sweet Ginny Marie.
i am so sorry. i'm with lisa on this one: i will pray – fervently – for you as you cope with this loss. you are pretty.(its the only way i know how to deal with tough situations my friends go through that i am totally unfamiliar with)(that, and a chocolate malt – heavy on the malt. but it would melt by the time i got it to you)
Sorry about the loss of your mom. I can relate. My mom was killed in a car accident when I was 14. I'm 36 now. I just stopped over from Blog Frog. I'm going to be a follower as soon as I send this comment. Take care 🙂
Death sucks. When dad died i thought – whose bright idea was this? Somebody is a major part of your life and then you have to learn to live without them?Now I really see death as the enemy and Jesus as the victor, for us! A victory yet to come, but imagine life without it.
Hi Ginny Sweetie…While out visiting friends today, I came across a message you had left someone, and for some reason I was drawn to your blog. I came here and read a little about you and your precious family.Your poem today is precious dear Ginny. You have your Moma sweetie, she lives in your heart, and every hug that you give to your girls she is sharing with you. She reassures you every step of the way sweetie, I promise you she does. Your recipes, you ask her, she will guide your hands and your mind. She smiles when you are angry with your husband, she shared that same anger I am sure with your Dad. I can't help with the knitting, that is my thing to learn this year too. I have another grandbaby coming in June and I want to knit a simple blanket, and I am going to learn.Ginny, I want to tell you what I believe. I believe that when we go to heaven, we all hang out our star in the sky, and that is why the sky is so full of stars, we each will have one. Your Moma will tell you good-night every night if you but step outside and look. She will be the first star you see, in whatever direction you turn and it twinkles, she is winking at you and kissing you sweetie. She truly is.I have signed up to follow your blog sweetie. You have a beautiful home and write so elegantly. I thank you for sharing with me today. Please stop by and say hi sweetie. I love company, and love meeting new friends. Country hugs sweetie…Sherry
You're a great mom and a wonderful daughter. My thoughts are with you. 🙁
thinking of you & sending prayers.
Oh, I am so sorry! There are no words that could possibly make this better. This post just brought tears to my eyes. I'm sorry.
I can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you and your family. You ARE a good mom, I can tell just from reading your stories about your sweet girls. And if you need to rant about your tiffs with your husband, shoot me an email. Heh.
Oh Goodness. Yes, exactly. I believe (have to believe) that our mothers are watching over us, still loving us, still able to hear and heal our woes. My mom couldn't knit worth a damn, though. 🙂 I learned basic stitches as a child from my Nana and Auntie, and the rest from the book "The Knitting Goddess." *hugs*