Loneliness – Woodsmoke and Cardamom

Dear Little Mother

by Lucy M. Young

Lucy (right) with
her “little Mother”
Lula G. Edmunds

Dear little mother,
I am so glad that you are finally at rest
And happy with your Lord.
I'll miss you, oh so much,
But knowing you are free at last
From all the loneliness you knew on earth
Will help me bear the sorrow of your passing.

You worked so hard and had so little -
No luxuries and just the bare necessities of life;
But you were always grateful
For every little thing that came your way:
A home-made valentine,
A small plant from my garden,
A single rose,
The little tree we planted for you long ago
On Mother's Day.

You loved us,
And you sacrificed so much
That we might have a better life
Than you had ever known.
Selfishly, unthinkingly I took
And gave so little in return;
But Mother dear, I loved you,
And I am so very sorry for my thoughtlessness
And for my unforgivable neglect of you.

I know you're happy now;
No more loneliness or sorrow,
No more heartache, no more pain.
You're with the ones you loved and missed so much -
Your beloved mother and your precious grandson;
Your special daughter and your one true love.
God bless you, Mother dear;
And 'though I miss you more than I can say,
I'm glad you're with the Lord
And may He hold you safely in His arms forever.

Hillhaven

by Lucy M. Young

Alone and ignored she sits in her wheelchair
The chaotic life of the nursing home flowing around her
No one to talk to, no one to care
What is she thinking?
Idly her hands pluck at her dress
Her eyes gaze into space
What memories or dreams lie behind that gaze?
Snowy head bent, she dreams the hours away
Are her memories happy?
Does she have a family somewhere?
Or is she really alone?
Bless her, Lord, and let her know
That you are always near for her
And she need never be alone again.

My Mother’s Bible

by Lucy M. Young

Alone, she sits in her cluttered home,
   Alone with her memories and dreams;
Waiting in vain for someone to call,
   But nobody cares, it seems.

Lonely and sad by the window she sits,
   Remembering days gone by
When her home was a busy, happy place,
   Filled with laughter and love and "small fry,"

Her children and grandchildren live nearby,
   All busy with their own affairs;
Not realizing how much it would mean to her
   To know that somebody cares.

Forgotten before her a cup of tea
   Grows cold as the shadows fall,
As cold as she feels in her empty house -
   Forgotten, rejected by all.

But wait, there is comfort close at hand
   And she clasps it close to her heart -
Her Bible, her constant companion and friend,
   A friend who will never depart.

As she reads the marked pages, her favorite lines,
   Peace enters her soul again;
And she knows in her heart she is never alone -
   Jesus walks with her to the end.

Now that Bible is mine. Although tattered and torn,
   Its message is very clear;
And it seems I can hear her quietly say,
   "Be happy, the Lord is near."



photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash