Author Information
Merry Christmas, Mom - Part IX
What I'm saying about you isn't hard for others to understand.
You were my mother and until March of 2013, I was a lucky man.
But you died on March the 6th of 2013 and I ran out of luck.
When I had to say goodbye, it felt like lightning had struck.
You and I spent our Christmases together for over forty years.
But we'd never share another Christmas and losing you drove me to tears.
You were so special that they probably threw a party when you arrived at the Pearly Gates.
I know that The Lord is happy to have you in Heaven but your death is something that I hate.
You were such an awesome mother and that made my brother and I better men.
And it's still very sad to know that we can't spend any Christmases together again.
When you died, I was devastated and it made me encounter some stormy weather.
But I still wish you a Merry Christmas even though we can't spend Christmas together.
My heart goes out to you.
My heart goes out to you. When my own mother passed, in January of 2013, we parted unreconciled.
The great British actor, Peter Cushing, was a very devout Christian; and when, during an interview, the interviewer offered condolences on the loss of Cushing's wife, Cushing replied, "I haven't lost her, I know where she is, she just isn't here right now." Both Cushing and his wife believed that Death, for Christians who do not die together, is like taking separate trains to the same destination: the trains will run on different schedules, perhaps at different speeds, but ultimately arriving at the same destination.
You seem to write quite a few poems about death---and elegy is one of the most ancient functions of Poetry, and that gives your poems a connection to the classics.
Starward