I teach her to paint flowers.
I play cards with her.
I wheel her outside in her wheelchair.
In the warm, sunny air.
I show her I care.
While my dear mother in Heaven
looks down and smiles.
I smile too.
And then.
Shed a tear.
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 12:47 AM UTC
I teach her to paint flowers.
I play cards with her.
I wheel her outside in her wheelchair.
In the warm, sunny air.
I show her I care.
While my dear mother in Heaven
looks down and smiles.
I smile too.
And then.
Shed a tear.
My beloved mother always wanted me to work with the elderly. This poem is for her. I miss you, Mom.
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