A Letter To My Dear Son

This is a beautiful and sad poem written by a mother whos son passed away at a tender age of only 20. I came across it sometime back and felt I needed to share it with you’ll. Its so sad,  

A Letter To My Dear Son
       
The hardest thing I thought I’d ever have to do
was go through labor and give birth to you…
But it wasn’t.

Then I thought…
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do
was to keep you from harm through the toddler years,
teach you right from wrong,
teach you to love others while showing you I loved you…
But it wasn’t.

Then I thought…
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do
was watch you leave me on your first day of school,
worrying about you,
hoping you’d be all right without me by your side,
reassuring you that I loved you…
But it wasn’t.

Then I thought…
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do
was get you through your younger years,
do all the right things for you,
spend enough time with you,
try to be your friend,
discipline you when I needed to,
worry about you and
never let you forget how very much I loved you…
But it wasn’t.

Then I thought…
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do
was watch you grow into a teen-ager,
help you make the right decisions,
trying to protect you, sometimes being tough on you,
while all along always trying to stay a friend to you,
hoping I was doing what I should for you,
worrying about you all the time,
reminding you how much I loved you…
But it wasn’t.

Then I thought…
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do
was watch you grow into a young man,
teaching you how to get along in the world by yourself,
reminding you that you are never really alone and
seeing you leave home to be on your own,
letting you know I’d always be there for you,
making sure you’d always remember how much you’re loved…
But it wasn’t.

I know what it was…
The hardest thing I ever had to do
was open the door to your room,
to have to see your body lying still,
wanting for you to smile at me and knowing you couldn’t,
wanting you to get up and talk to me, and tell me you were O.K.
But it didn’t happen.

The hardest thing I ever had to do was to live without you,
my times with you were over.

The hardest thing I ever had to do was say good-bye to you, my son,
though you were so young, only twenty,
I have so many memories of our times together and
I’ll never forget how much you changed my life,
how much you meant to me and how much I loved you.

Forever and Always,

Mom

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Poem for Parents .

Thank You Sincerely

Thanks for the start to the lives that we’ve had.
Thanks for the nights that you went without rest.
So many memories, most happy, some sad;
If you weren’t perfect, you still passed the test,
Holding our hands, holding back all the fears.
Thank you sincerely for all of those years.

So many hours that you worked to provide
Multiplied by all the days that we grew,
When we behaved and the times we defied,
Never a doubt we could still count on you,
Making our laughter and drying our tears.
Thank you sincerely for all of those years.

Thanks for the rules that we wished were not there.
Thanks for the wisdom we sometimes denied.
All the attention and all of the care,
All the forgiveness and all of the pride,
Pointing out faults but then calling out cheers.
Thank you sincerely for all of those years.

For the examples you set every day,
Teaching with actions, those lessons hold tight.
We hardly knew just how much you could say
Simply by doing what you knew was right.
Now that we’re older, the logic appears.
Thank you sincerely for all of those years.

Thank you for love not required to be earned,
Not ever fading as time moves along.
You have to know that the love is returned,
Not always showing, but always so strong.
And you still care as your golden time nears.
Thank you sincerely for all of the years.

Poem for DAD

This is such a sweet poetry. You can use it in scrapbooks or cardmaking or just make a small frame and add this poem in it. It could be used as a fathers day gift or simply for dad’s birthday. Sure to warm his heart. He’ll treasure it on the mantle long after you have left ..  

What makes a Dad

God took the strength of a mountain, ~The majesty of a tree,

The warmth of a summer sun, ~ The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature, ~ The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages, ~The power of the eagle’s flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,~The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,  ~ The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities, When there was nothing more to add,   He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so, He called it …~ Dad ~

~Author Unknown~

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

For Every Mother

F O R     E V E R Y     M O T H E R 

This is for all the mothers who didn’t win Mother of the Year last year.

All the runners-up and all the wannabes. The mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care.

This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, “Did you see my goal?” they could say, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.”

This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night and can’t find their children.  (And the mothers in Iraq whose children died in bombings).

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll never see. And the for mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

For all the mothers of the victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just arrived safely home from school.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who don’t.

What makes a good mother? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?  Or is it heart?  Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying? 

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn’t.

This is for reading “Goodnight, Moon” twice a night for a year. And then reading it again, “just one more time.”

This is for all the mothers who aren’t perfect. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2-year-old who wants ice cream before dinner.

This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

For all the mothers who bite their lips- sometimes until they bleed- when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.

This is for all the mothers who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won’t stop.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls “Mom?” in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.

This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears- and tears- on their children’s graves.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can’t find the words to reach them.

This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just FINE once they got there,  only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up.  Right away.

This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation.  And mature mothers learning to let go.  For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. So hang in there. The world would be a terrible place without the love of mothers everywhere.  You make it a more civil, caring and safe place for the precious children in our world.

I wish

I have to share this poem with you. It is so beautiful and really reminded me of where I was goofing up on the kids. I have used the “Not Now” and “Clean up your room”  several times. I am quilty of evading my quality time to letting them enjoy The playstation or the computer games. But juggling between my kids, home and my business has definetly not been easy.. So I think this poem came as a reminder of slowing down and enjoying the moment with the kids. I am not certain who the author is so if you do, please let me know and I will glady credit it to her.

I wish .. .. ..

I was so busy through the day, I did’nt take the time to play.

When you brought your games to me, I told you “Not now,” and quietly,

I cleaned the house, I’d iron and cook, but when you’d bring your story book, And ask me to sit and read to you, I’d say, “I have too much to do.”

I’d tuck you in your bed at night, you’d say your prayers, I’d dim the light.

Too quickly I’d pass through the door, I should have stayed a minute more.

Life’s much too short, each year flies past, my little boy grew up so fast.

No longer playing by my side, for me to nurture and to guide.

The books and toys are packed away, no longer are there games to play.

No precious bedtime prayers to hear, that all belongs to yester-year.

My days once busy now are calm, the hours empty and too long.

I wish I could go back and do, all the things you asked me to.

At the time you don’t realize it, but raising your child is the best time of your life !