Slightly crazy writer and passionate educator for those who struggle
My daughter, she was sad one day
Her Grandma passed away
Taken from us slowly
Many years, many days.
We wrapped my girl in open arms
And closed them tight about her
And when the time came to step away
Her father’s jumper it was located.
We dressed her in that massive thing
And told her about its hug
Now every time she puts it on
She’s enveloped in loving comfort
Feeling all that safety
That a parent’s hug does bring.
My mother made a quilt one day
Especially for me.
Not for any other sister
Not for any other one.
This quilt is my most treasured item
In yellows, greens, and blues
She wove them together, intricately
Waving patterns, flowing, moving.
My Son, he sees a flower.
Myself, geometry.
Regardless of our points of view,
Every time I use that quilt,
I am in my mother’s arms,
My mother’s hug for eternity.