Remembering a Mom Prone to Forget

Mom's rosy cheeks are growing pale
Her memory's begun to fail
This little dinghy needs a sail.
Her outboard's wearing out.

My mother misses Dad so much,
his sound advice, his tender touch.
She's lost without her guiding light.
She's timid and unsure.

Still there's a sparkle in her eye
and yet I really can't deny
the fact that Mom is losing sight
of what to do and when.

But then again, don't get me wrong.
Each night at six she leads in song
as eight or ten or sometimes twelve
belt out those timeless hymns.

She tells a joke like Jay Leno.
Her timing's perfect, don't you know?
But how she can recall punch lines
is quite a mystery.

She journals daily like a kid
recounting what she ate and did.
Yet sadly, once she shuts her book
the ink evaporates.

But she's a star (just like her name).
She twinkles night and day the same.
Her constant smile beams God's love
to everyone she meets.

God, bless you Mom and give you health,
for as we age that is true wealth.
May you be rich remembering
how very much you're loved.

* At eighty-three, my mom is a remarkable woman. She is still very much in love with life, her Lord, and her two sons (and their families). She is not in love with a mind that can't recall what it once could.