Today would have been Mother’s 87th birthday. This time last year, we were eating dinner in the main dining room of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. They presented Mother with this wonderful birthday dessert, her last, as it turned out. As I type this, I am recalling that, and also the wonderful trip that we took together, also our last. But I’m grateful for that time with her.
Earlier today, a friend thoughtfully sent me the following poem:
We thought of you today,
but that was nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday,
and the day before that too.
Your memory is our keepsake,
with which we’ll never part.
God has you in his keeping,
we have you in our heart.
This poem says it all. The words are precious to me.