I Know She Is Meant To Be

A Poem By Edith // 6/30/2007

Not all understand what a mother is,
What they’re meant for and what they give.
Some just don’t get how special they really are,
Or the good they do when they are near or far.

But I know my mother is meant to cry,
She is meant to sob when waving goodbye.
I know my mother is meant to smile,
When remembering a funny time as a child.

I know my mother is meant to shed tears,
When I shed mine on all my fears.
I know my mother is meant to comfort me,
Saying “All will be okay, my Lady T”.

I know my mother is meant to frown,
When I do wrong and bring her down.
And I know how many times she corrects me again,
Seems like she never gives up even then!

I know my mother is meant to tuck me in,
Even if that same evening I was wrong with sin.
I know she kisses me, before I close my eyes,
She whispers “You’ll do better tomorrow night.”

I know my mother is meant to sigh,
When tired of noise from my sibs and I.
But I know she keeps on smiling away,
New night after night, day after day.

I know my mother is meant shake her head,
When she sees my messy room and bed.
I know my mother is meant to laugh,
When I subtract instead of add in Math.

I know my mother is meant to roll her eyes,
When Falkor runs off and barks at flies.
I know my mother is meant to make a face,
When G runs after M and falls in the race.

I know my mother is meant to hug,
When we scream at any large bug…
And I know my mother is meant to pray,
When she feears that year, month, week or day.

I know my mother is meant to clap,
When we three put on a play,
I’ll say “But who hath seen her wave her hand?”
And G will say-
“Or at the casement seen her stand?”
And M will rise… “Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shallot.”

I know my mom, my dearest mom,
Is meant for all these things…
Because when I look into her eyes,
I see what it all brings.
She cries, she comforts, she tells us right from wrong,
She taught us well and where we belong.

I know my mother, my dearest mother,
Is meant for all these things,
Because the sound of ANYTHING she does,
Makes Heaven’s Angel bells rings.

I know my mom, my dearest mom,
Keeps us all together,
She reminds me of the Blessed Virgin Mary,
And that she will forever.

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