A Tribute To My Mother

Keith and Mom

God and I chose my mother when it was time;

time for me to materialize to another state of consciousness;

to the world of my home — Mother Earth.

Allowed to be by the grace of God, together, my mother and father

created and put forth my human form.

My looks, my temperament, and my gifts, intelligently designed;

put in their proper stations, descended genes of antiquity.

Naked, vulnerable, and afraid, I struggled,

then I reached out and cried;

the breath of life…not to be denied.

Fresh, newborn, and willing in my flesh;

a truly authentic specimen — testimony to generations

of forefathers, and absolutely a direct descendant of my mom.

I wonder of Mother’s ability to struggle — to balance,

to direct her energies in raising our family.

I know her face; she is proud of me.

Her somber face of suffering I know, as well.

Supporting the cross I had to bear, she helped me understand,

it would be mine and mine alone to carry, but God would be with me,

over and over again, throughout my days on Earth.

Alas, throughout my Mother’s later years,

I must have my cross under control; well-balanced,

so I might then be able, in return, to help her bear her cross.

No strings of duty shall be attached; just the harp-like heartstrings,

“Reserved: For Mother’s Only!”

I can see her now, sitting at the piano;

loving, teaching, and encouraging with melodies,

harmonies, rhythms and rhymes from The Beatles to Christmastime.

She held my hand and inspired me to a lifelong passion for music.

Now, I cannot even imagine any kind of life without music,

nor do I wish to imagine life without the blessings of my mother.

Somehow, I just know — my soul does understand,

she will always be here for me,

plucking at my heartstrings; guiding me, forgiving me,

and supporting me until the sun sets on my days beyond the hill.

One day, we’ll meet again in Heaven, this I know,

because we love each other, it shall be so.

Written and given to my mom on Mother’s Day in 2001

Evelyn Marie Watson

Rest In Peace

Evelyn Marie Watson

December 26, 1934 — September 25, 2018

♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥

 

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48 thoughts on “A Tribute To My Mother

  1. (((HUGS))) Uncle Tree. I have tears in my eyes. I lost my Mom September of last year. I KNOW your pain. To loose a Mother is a life-changing event. How my Heart goes out to you!

  2. What a beautiful memory and love for your mother. Thankyou for sharing. Love and prayers. Rejoice In Paradise Evelyn.

  3. That is beautiful Uncle Tree – so meaningful, and a wonderful tribute to the woman who gave you life and made you the person you are today. I am glad that you wrote that message to your mom while she was living and could appreciate how much she meant to you. That is why it is always important to show people how you feel about them while they are here on Earth, not when you are standing over their grave and saying “I wish I could have told you what you meant to me …” … it’s too late by then. You did it the right way … no regrets, just much sadness at her passing.

  4. Oh, Keith ❤ ❤
    Your words touch my heart and my soul. I am so sorry for your loss.
    I know, I can feel it, that your Mom knew how very much you loved her and that is an amazing way to transition. Thank you for your beautiful honesty and loving heart. I am in this very moment caring for my Mom who is suddenly, seriously, ailing. Your words remind me of the way I want to treat this time.
    Much love…many blessings…full heart love ❤

  5. Thank you for your kind and sympathetic thoughts, Linda. ❤
    When I walked into the funeral home last Monday, this poem was in a frame, sitting on the table of memories, alongside lots of old photographs. I hadn't read this for 17 years, but I did remember it. An older cousin of mine was safekeeping it. The preacher asked me if he could read it aloud during the service, and of course, I said, "Yes." My mom also painted a bit, and I brought a few of her paintings home. They are nice to have around the house. I will miss her in so many ways…

  6. Thank you kindly, Lorrie. ❤ Your words are much appreciated.
    May God bless you, your mom, and your family and friends
    during the difficult times you are bound to go through.
    Peace, luvz and hugz, UT

  7. Thinking of you Uncle Tree. Losing a mom is hard. My mom and I are not close as she is an alcoholic but we chat once a week on the phone. Lots of love xxx

  8. A beautiful tribute to your Mother, a precious soul she was on Earth and still is. The photos you shared can see the inner beauty of her from her youth to her older age. You were very blessed to have good parents and a wonderful Mother.

  9. I had to remember…MY MOM…who planned her life and mine, to the utmost. But in Her life, she reminded us, of a writer Marcus Aurelius a stoic. . . who spoke to “her heart”. When you get in the boat, canoe, raft, and sail out on the sea of life, when you get to the other side, get out of the boat. I wish I could have known, your kind of mother, left you and I in tears. Instead the daughter of a farmer, taught us how to understand, some babies, don’t life, some calves die. She lost her first child. THEN: She became convinced…when you are a Christian and through with this life, you have done your best, and enjoy THE REST, until He comes again. Daddy on the other hand, prepared us for his death by talking to himself, on the way to bed, saying, “I’m going into the hands of the morphis.” He would awake like a butterfly…to take his wings and fly again for another day. But when I think of him in the marble hotel sleeping….I would wake him up…and he would turn over (in my mind) and say, “Don’t wake me up until the Lord comes.” and I laugh….because he would want it that way. THANK YOU!

  10. You’re welcome Keith. Seeing the framed poem and hearing the preacher read it aloud during the service was bittersweet for you and I bet very difficult as well, but a memory that you will carry with you the rest of your life. I have often said to people just what I wrote you this morning – it is better to tell loved ones how you feel about them or remember them while they are living, not after they are gone. I will bet her heart soared when she read your poem. Having those paintings around will keep your mom’s memory alive. This has been a year of change for you – you thought the one event you’d remember was turning 60, never knowing you would lose your nephew and your mom the same year. Stay strong.

  11. Such a lovely touching tribute. My heartfelt condolences. You’d definitely meet her in heaven, and in between she’s given you her love and warmth to wrap yourself with, like a child’s favourite blanket.

  12. We’ve learned to roll with the punches, Linda, or we wouldn’t be around to talk about them.
    Thank you again for the words of encouragement. ❤ Take care, girl. Hugz!

  13. That’s so true Keith – we are supposed to be made strong by weathering all the storms, but sometimes there are just too many at one time and they knock us down. Your 2018 is like my 2010 … a most-forgettable year and I could hardly wait for the next year to begin and start anew, with less heartache.

  14. Uncle Tree – so very sorry for your loss. Your mother sounds like an incredible woman, may she R.I.P. May the legacy of her love & music continue to inspire you & may God encircle your heart with Everlasting Arms of comfort. 🙏🌷💞🌷🙏

  15. Losing mother is very saddest and hard time of life!! I like you wrote that message for your mom👍 your words are heart touching🙏 god bless you💐

  16. Such a beautiful tribute to your Mother. I’m happy you were able to give it to her. I lost my mom in 1995, just a month after her 87th birthday and I still miss her dreadfully. I wish I had been able to give her the following:

    My Mother’s Hands

    © 2018 Barbara Grace Lake

    So downy soft with tender care
    Returned a nestling to its tree
    To see the worried mother bird
    Fly home to nurture, help it grow

    As gently lifting me
    From cradle to her breast
    To suckle till I fell asleep
    And dream warm baby dreams

    Accepting, loving, strong
    How able as I grew
    At shushing tears as anger burst
    Or bandaging a knee

    Black garden dirt they wore with pride
    Ingrained in every crease
    But rainbow blossoms graced our home
    The gift her hands displayed

    Long years they spent in usefulness
    Till gnarled, blue veined in age
    Still soft and loving, loved as her,
    My Mother’s hands

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