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I do more than you think.

Posted 09-23-2008 at 03:00 PM by UDPride
You may not know this, but I do a lot more writing than just about cars and sports. Ive written short stories and limericks and poetry. Its kind of my therapeutic side and it flushes out a lot of my anxieties when I go at it. Here's one I recently wrote about my mother...

EIGHTEEN HOURS

My name is Christopher, the fortunate son,
After a saint, they named me one,
The patron saint for a journeyman's sol,
Ask for his guidance or don't travel at all,

I asked for his help, one day in September,
The seventh day is how I remember,
The afternoon came from a hard night's run,
From bad to worse so the day would become,

In 18 hours, the travels were spoken,
Among mother and I all the barriers broken,
My whispers, her mind, all the words came to bare,
Though I never heard answers, I knew they were there,

Frightened I was, to be alone when she dies,
Would I find the right words to say my goodbyes,
A promise once given was a promise I kept,
I'll never leave you, there's no choice to accept,

Just when I felt I was ready to fall,
Saint Christopher came to channel it all,
Her strength through my veins,
Her heart to my soul,
Her loving of me when I hit the wall,

From there it began, a calmed-skinned presence,
Was is Saint Christopher's voice or my mom's loving essence?,
A journey that started 18 hours before,
Was reaching the end when she reached for the door,

"Mom, don't be frightened, together we're two,"
"If you reach for the door, it will open for you,"
Take the first step, and we'll take it stride,"
I'll hold on to your hand and be by your side,"

From there the fog seemed to lift off our hearts,
Sunny side up in all the right parts,
Everything said, our love over-poured,
She was ready to go and be with the Lord,

And so she went, she ceased to exist,
My only mother that I already missed,
But still in my heart and my soul she festered,
No mother of mine will be so sequestered,

Too easy to miss,
Too hard to forget,
Too many good times whenever we met,

Too long you suffered,
Too much you pained,
So precious your heart you rarely complained,

The lesson I learned is most sacred a vow,
Tomorrow's too late so enjoy it all now,
Gone is a state of being for sure,
But memories live on and forever endure,
Perhaps my mom saw the saint in me,
I saw the saint in her, I guarantee...
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JoAnne's Avatar
Chris, You are a saint. That is beautiful.
Here I go tearing up again................
Posted 09-24-2008 at 04:06 PM by JoAnne JoAnne is offline
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I'm so sorry about your Mother. It must have been very reassuring to her to have you there at the end.

And I have to agree with JoAnne, that is beautiful. And you have a talent!
Posted 10-05-2008 at 07:34 PM by Jenn Jenn is offline
 
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