Sunday entry for Mom

 

Sundays were always for Mom.

A call,

a visit,

dinner,

How are you doing?

A hug,

A soft face,

kind hand,

Here are some cookies,

There,

all better.

 

 

 

 

Here are some memoirs for Mom.

As I pull them out I want to share the moments

and you will feel the power of my mother, too.

 

from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam in Mom's handwriting
My Mom recited these and this was here favorite version.




Here is a Telegram of when My Mother's Father Carl died (my grandfather).
It must have been eerie getting telegrams sometimes
when this is the news.
My Mom was 5, her brother 15
and My Mom,
and Fanny,
his wife, My Grandmother
 was Heartbroken
Forever.