Writing from Walsh Mountain

Grateful I’m a part of your final chapter,

I assure you that you’re loved

With tender kisses on your forehead;

Gentle touches to your cheeks.

I hold your hand when you seem afraid.

You squeeze my hand

And I know that you know I’m here.

In another part of your book:

So many times, you stroked my arm

To keep me quiet and still in church

And rubbed my back when I felt ill.

Then there were the lovely chapters

Playing dominoes and word games

At your kitchen table;

The cakes and cookies we made together;

The walks around your gardens

Where you introduced each beautiful bloom

As though it was your flower child.

Now, I whisper a prayer next to your ear

In case your mind can still pray with me.

And I think of all the times I knelt next to you

Both in church and by your bed

During my many sleepovers

With you and Grampy.

I can hear you mention each child,

Each grandchild, and each great-grandchild by name,

Asking for God’s protective hedge around each one.

Now, I sing you a quiet hymn.

Maybe just to comfort me.

And I think of all the specials we prepared

You on your organ – using only black keys

Your style so uniquely you

Your country contralto a voice I’ll always hear.

All the hymns so precious to you

Becoming so dear to me.

I think how fast these years have flown:

Childhood; young adulthood; motherhood.

All the chapters you also loved and faced,

Perhaps occasionally pondering that one day

You’d be in your final earthly chapter

As you said goodbye to precious characters

Central to your story.

I think about how blessed I’ve been

To be a main character in your narrative.

It is my honor to be by your side.

And, it is my hope and comfort to know

That our story will never end.