Friday, October 23, 2009

requiem for my mother...

The heavens seem to know my pain and is dark
the grays were dark and foreboding
the trees were in a flutter between raindrops tapping a somber song on the window glass
my house felt colder than usual
my heart felt heavy and breathing was cumbersome at times
I stayed in my soft pajamas and under the summer quilt as my mind drifted...
drifting from a mindless restless sleep
today is the first year without my mother
I miss her soft voice and our evening phone calls
I know she is still here
still here ...and yet so far away
the house is empty except for me
but maybe this private solace is what I truly need
a private time to cry without shame
my small guardian... my dog sleeps especially close
and even the cat keeps watch watch as the minutes tick away
in time my discretion of how long...I ease back into a more normal rhythm
my stitches quilted one at a time are prayerful
I remember my visit with my Mother at the end of Fall... in healthier days
and she asked me where I got the patience to do what I do
often without a road map...
I was working on a small quilted piece with a simple chain stitch
and Mother's eyesight was failing
she could follow my designs with her fingertips...
after a silent pause I answered by telling her I learned from her.
Even in this moment I can feel her with me
as I return to my fiber prayer cloth
and Mother and I are watching a mindless program together
as the evening will come to an end.
Love never dies and the lessons are constantly growing in my heart.
I love you Mom for all you have given me
but I do still miss your soft gentle voice.

Imagine and Live in Peace, Mary Helen Fernandez Stewart


  1. "Love never dies and the lessons are constantly growing in my heart."

    That, Mary Helen, is the most perfect of quotes. It fits us all who have lost someone we well.


  2. The loss of a dear one is something that hits hard no matter what and to pass time we remember the moments we treasure, filtering out the little episodes in favor what is more important.

    Sharing stories of your memories with children, keeps alive the history of your mother and enriches your child's life or anyone else with whom you share that memory.

    Wishing you peace