MOM by Davie Shea
This is a poem my uncle Davie wrote about my grandma after she died. He died a few years later. Because my grandpa (her husband) is in the hospital, and today would be Davie’s 47th birthday. I felt this was appropriate.
How many times did she skip across the stony road for a pail of water?
How many tears fell as she looked over her shoulder to see her brothers & sisters waving goodbye?
Did her eyes swell again when she came home to her parents - just months from being one herself?
How proud did she feel returning years later with her Kerryman and five wee ones in tow?
It just seemed like another day when she told me “grandma passed away”
Too young to feel the loss
On a cold November day,
I discovered the origin of tears
However early pain felt –
I know is heaven’s gain
