How many memories I have of my dear sweet mama, now in heaven four years. To honor her, I want to repeat a poem I posted awhile back because it has such good memories of who she was. She was a delightful lady, full of fun, music, and love of others.
Your greatgrandson is only four
but he’s heard the songs from the forties.
“Abba Dabba Honeymoon,”
“Me and My Shadow,”
“Playmate, Come Out And Play with Me,”
“Teddy Bear’s Picnic,”
songs you sang to Gayle and me
when she was three and I was four
Maybe someday he’ll get to meet Mrs. Doodenlopper.
She used to come take care of Gayle and me.
She looked like you.
We said, “You’re our mother!”
She always replied, “Oh no,
she’s at the store. She’ll be home soon.”
Then we would have tea
when Gayle was five and I was six
He’ll never get to see the doll furniture your made
for Gayle and me
from orange crates
with a hammer, nails, and your butcher knife
when you were pregnant with Wayne.
It made a dandy kitchen with
empty thread spools for knobs.
We wore them out playing house
when Gayle was six and I was seven