A poem from Mom

To Lesley Dawn, my first born,
Fills me with love every morn.
Hope she'll be happy as a bee -
'Til the day she goes from me.

This little poem popped back into my head this week, my birthday week. The first birthday since Mom died. Last year, we celebrated my birthday with friends, at home with a Chinese banquet and extreme croquet, which went on after midnight as the weather was so glorious. So different from the cold, wet weather today. A little poignant, perhaps.

Mom celebrated with us last year. She had finished her chemo and had a CT scan; the tumours had responded, but not a lot. The doctors decided to wait and see, so all things considered, Mom was well and we all had a very happy time.

We knew, of course, that Mom wouldn't be with us this year, which made last year's celebration so special. And the poem? Mom wrote that poem in my autograph book, which she gave me for my tenth birthday. I don't have the book any more, but I do have this lovely poem.


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