Wolf Pack of Three

Wolf pack of one

I know it’s been done.

But, my Momma was saying back

Before the birth of Zach.

She was alone in her pain when

She started the fading

Just wanted to go to the woods

Be alone, we understood.

But we were a wolf pack of three

Mom, my sister, and me.

Never give up on each other

Especially when it’s your Mother.

She decided it was exiting time

She was gone on a dime.

But, we all said our farewells

Made promises through Heaven or hell

We kept every one to a T

Now a wolf pack of Two from one of three

It’s always later not goodbye.

Do You See What I See?

She Walks in Beauty like the Night by Lord Byron as printed by George Gordon

Mom in a tree on a mini vacation

Tonight, if for a brief moment, I visited the past and not the dark parts but the light. Mom was and remains my light on a hill shining truth and goodness into my soul with a love so pure and deep no man could break it. Our bond is unique and beyond the white washed grave.

Christmas. She wove Magic and Beauty and Delight with a heavy helping of what the season entailed (a little bit of Jesus) for everyone she encountered. Mom wore her scarf high and her toboggan low to hide her elfin ears…too much of her spectacular might frighten other children. But not her own! We soaked it in drove on drove and begged for more.

But, not her own, we trudge on grief stricken. I have not celebrated Christmas for over fifteen years- since she became riddled with cancer and died. I had an old visitor who I hadn’t seen in nigh a decade- the Christmas Spirit. Startled at first glance, I welcomed my old friend with a warm hug – the good kind where you let them pull away first. This year is looking like a tight Christmas. There will be no perfectly presented packages under my artificial tree. But, I will pull my toboggan low and my scarf high as to not frighten the little ones.