There sits my Mom alone in the quiet
holding only my Dad’s smiling picture
Across from his chair where he often would sit
and seemed such a permanent fixture
Alone she sits now with memories,
a torrential cascading flood
The thoughts of all of her loneliness,
germinate, grow and they bud
The tears they fall on his sweater
with thoughts of his tender warm hands
Embracing and calming her tensions
easing life’s chilling demands
She looks through all of his keepsakes,
the treasures the stuff and the junk
Reminiscing of wonderful moments
now buried in memories trunk
Their hearts they were well knit together
some sixty years now have gone by
And boy did he really look handsome
especially when wearing this tie
And there is his dear old black bible
tattered and worn to the bone
With so many fine buried treasures
he labored to make all his own
This little box of small trinkets
from Italy, boot-camp and war
are now so inconsequential, to the
treasure he’s laid up in store
But Mom you’re still right here and with us,
this new phase has all just begun
Carry on with all of the courage
you’ve assembled beginning day one
Dad always loved that about you,,
when your kind heart he lovingly won
And he’s left you in the very good hands now,
of the Father and His capable Son
David Kettler, 8/13/09
I called my Mom and she was crying while going through Dad’s things. After I hung up, I wrote this poem while driving back to Bakersfield from Tulare. I felt like the first part would probably make her sad, but I hoped that the last part would give her encouragement to begin this next stage of her life. I thought about all the courage that it took Mom to go through nurse’s training all those years ago and now she would have to call on that courage again. It’s not like she ever lost it, just that she needs to make decisions on her own again without the help and support of Dad.
holding only my Dad’s smiling picture
Across from his chair where he often would sit
and seemed such a permanent fixture
Alone she sits now with memories,
a torrential cascading flood
The thoughts of all of her loneliness,
germinate, grow and they bud
The tears they fall on his sweater
with thoughts of his tender warm hands
Embracing and calming her tensions
easing life’s chilling demands
She looks through all of his keepsakes,
the treasures the stuff and the junk
Reminiscing of wonderful moments
now buried in memories trunk
Their hearts they were well knit together
some sixty years now have gone by
And boy did he really look handsome
especially when wearing this tie
And there is his dear old black bible
tattered and worn to the bone
With so many fine buried treasures
he labored to make all his own
This little box of small trinkets
from Italy, boot-camp and war
are now so inconsequential, to the
treasure he’s laid up in store
But Mom you’re still right here and with us,
this new phase has all just begun
Carry on with all of the courage
you’ve assembled beginning day one
Dad always loved that about you,,
when your kind heart he lovingly won
And he’s left you in the very good hands now,
of the Father and His capable Son
David Kettler, 8/13/09
I called my Mom and she was crying while going through Dad’s things. After I hung up, I wrote this poem while driving back to Bakersfield from Tulare. I felt like the first part would probably make her sad, but I hoped that the last part would give her encouragement to begin this next stage of her life. I thought about all the courage that it took Mom to go through nurse’s training all those years ago and now she would have to call on that courage again. It’s not like she ever lost it, just that she needs to make decisions on her own again without the help and support of Dad.
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