A year has passed, and more
Once again your birthday has come, but you are not here.
I long to phone you to say, “Happy day, Mom”.
But no phones ring ‘neath the grassy slope where you sleep.
I didn’t think it would be like this — you were his mother, not mine.
You didn’t even want to meet me.
But when you did, there was warmth and love.
Two kindred spirits linked by one man.
With your stories you gave me his childhood,
Your memories brought me his infant gurgles,
His adolescent struggles, teenage frustrations,
Special stories only a mother can tell.
Long before the wedding I became your daughter, eagerly filling the spot you had saved for her.
Memorizing your childhood as no son would,
Learning of your parents, your sister and brothers,
Not dreaming you would go before I knew them all.
Now this world you filled is empty;
Bereft of your love, your caring, I feel cheated.
If only we had spent more time, made more memories, shared more birthdays.
I miss you.