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Her Legacy

Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of His mother, as if to teach us that this holy love should be our last worldly thought - the last point of earth from which the soul should take its flight for heaven.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow





   Roses For My Mother

If roses grow in Heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my mother's arms
And tell her they're from me.

Tell her that I love her and miss her,
And when she turns to smile,
Place a kiss upon her cheek
And hold her for awhile.

Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
But there's an ache within my heart
That will never go away.

Author: Susan Polis Schutz

 

JANIECE PEEPLES May 12, 2012
 
SILENT HOUSE
These walls have eyes
Rows of photographs
And faces like mine
Who do we become
Without knowing where
We started from

It's true I'm missing you
As I stand alone in your room

Everyday that will pass you by
Every name that you won't recall
Everything that you made by hand
Everything that you know by heart

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house

One room
Two single beds
In the closet hangs
Your favorite dress
The books that you read
Are in scattered piles
Of paper shreds

Everything that you made by hand
Everything that you know by heart

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house
Silent house

In the garden off the living room
A chill fills the air
And the lilies bloom

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this Silent House

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house

Silent house
JANIECE PEEPLES January 26, 2012
 
Missing You Mother
image

Remembering My Mother

© Belinda Stotler
My Mother seems so far away from me,
On that beautiful white shore across the sea.
Yet I remember love’s soft glow upon her face,
And the feel of her touch and tender embrace.

When I am weary from the burdens I’ve borne,
And the path is unclear and I feel so forlorn,
I remember her loving support was always near,
And her advice made the path ahead seem clear.

When I feel there is no one who seems to care,
Or when the heartache seems too hard to bear,
I remember how she always stood by my side,
And would tenderly wipe away the tears I cried.

When there are moments of great joy and pride,
And I wish my Mother was standing at my side,
I remember she saw more than I thought I could be,
And know I owe my triumphs to her belief in me.

When I reminisce about the things she used to say,
And I miss her and think she is so far away,
I remember what she gave lives on through me,
And one day I’ll see her on the shore across the sea.




Source: COPD, Remembering My Mother Poem http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/remembering-my-mother--copd#ixzz1ka8xzFUs
Family Friend Poems
Janiece Peeples March 13, 2011
 
image

Richer Than Gold

You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be --

I had a mother who read to me.

...Strickland Gillilan

　

 

 

　
Janiece Peeples March 12, 2011
 
image

I Still Miss You, Mom

How come
you never get over
missing your Mom?

How come years later
you still can't wait to
tell her something
before you remember
how long she has been gone?

How come every time
you see something beautiful
you think "Oh my Mom
would love this."
And every time
there is a hurt so big
your heart can't hold it.

She is the first one you need.
Every joy that comes
could only be better
if you could
share it with her.
And every tragedy
makes you thank God
she doesn't have to
suffer through it.

How come
no matter how much
you miss your Mom
just thinking about her
somehow still comforts
and heals?
Janiece January 17, 2011
 
image

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

The Hand that rocks the Cradle
Is The Hand That Rules The World
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

...William Ross Wallace



 

Janiece January 12, 2011
 
image
The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men - from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms.  ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.  ~Washington Irving


"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother."
-- Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

"I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life."
-- Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

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