At times with Mum I was so cross
Not realising the scale of loss
Of one who’s love was ever clear
Though having me cost her dear.
Now I myself become a mother
I realise something about the other,
Who held me close and dried my tears
Was there to deal with all my fears.
She was not perfect, far from it,
But never faltered, not a bit,
In giving me the best of care
And trying always to be there.
Now she rests in a higher place
And how I miss her dear face.
But I am strong and I can see,
Because of what she gave to me,
She made her loss something I can bear
Until at last I join her there.
Annie Conboy, 26th August 2008
