I can’t let the day go without giving a shout out to my mother, Gertrude Marie (b. 11/1925, d. 04/2010). Here are Mom and Dad (David and Trudy), in Baltimore in 1942, the year they were married. And here are my thoughts of her on the occasion of her death in April 2010.
BORN IN FALL
She was born in fall when leaves do turn,
When winter calls and colors burn,
Then fell in spring when new leaves yearn,
And baby flowers sang.
Her course was set against the flow,
Her progress made with kids in tow,
The world did small affection show,
And little comfort share.
But faith she found, and passed it on,
And this past spring tried on her crown,
And with a regal saintly gown
Entered upon her rest.
My mind appoints fond memories,
Renews her presence here with ease,
Her alto voice and melodies,
And eyes of softest green.
Her hands a master sculptor formed,
Of ivory polished by the storm,
And now their craft and service mourned,
But cherished in each part.
A mother’s care was incarnate,
No harm was ever near me let,
But all my needs were always met,
My plate was always full.
What grammar then can I contrive,
To keep her here with me alive?
Would I her new estate deprive?
Oh let it not be so.
And thus with fond affection I,
Release my mother to the sky,
And with love constantly reply,
My dearest Adieu.