I wrote this early on August 14, 2012. Mom passed late that day.
It has taken me a while to put it up, as I am still trying to understand everything that her life, and her death, mean to me.

Mother

It’s 0300 in my world
Don’t have a clue about yours
I’m wide awake and enjoying
The aches and pains of age.

Loud crickets, circling bats
Neighbors with restless pets
Fire trucks, police cars
Fill the empty night.

I know what’s coming,
I see the headlamp
Of the approaching train
No way to stop it, slow it down.

It’s on a schedule
No man wrote
Our time is determined
By another, not by us.

In His grace,
We are born
With His grace, we live
By His order, we die.

Restless, you roll the halls
Looking for salvation
As I study Holy Script
Looking for a reason.

I come up empty
Like so many years ago
When you thought you had the power
To call His wrath down on me.

When the train pulls
Into your station
And you climb aboard
No backward glance.

That’s your style
Tight lips, no wave
No long sorrowful goodbye
Turn away from me.

Go, ride away in peace
And leave me here
Our short time together
Always left me wondering

Was there something else
Something you tried to say?
Could not find the words?
I love you, with meaning

Would have been sufficient.
But those words
Did not fall
From your lips

Take your journey
Enjoy your trip
Knowing I am here
Wishing for you, peace.

Rest in Peace, Mother. Sylvia Eleanor (Hunter) Hartman passed August 14th, 2012. She was 90 years old.