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Of Hope and Sadness

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This is a pastel portrait I did of Mum around her 86th birthday. She had an amazing, difficult and varied life and I miss her so much. She was my constant companion in the years before her passing. We had some great fun and Mum was always full of kindness and fun.

At this time of year I am filled with hope for the new year starting but sad, bittersweet reminisces of times past. Mum is my hero — a dreamer, an artist, mother of 11 children (one was miscarried, but she never forgot him), Grandmother to countless grandchildren and great-grandchildren. No, she wasn’t perfect but she always had time to lend an ear, lend a hand, a kiss and cuddle.

ALWAYS APPRECIATE THOSE PRESENTLY IN YOUR LIFE BECAUSE IT’S TOO LATE ONCE THEY’RE GONE.

The following is the poem I read out at Mum’s funeral.

GONE

Purposefully he strides into the room
Fixes her with his basilisk stare
With fear and excitement she steps forward
Into his calm, dark embrace
A sigh and she is gone
Whisked away from us who try to hold her back.

Her shadow, the memory of her
The hope and joy of her past life
The sure serenity of her undiminished soul
Passes amongst us even as we mourn that passing.
She whispers of Love and respect, patience and forgiveness
All the things that have defined the woman we so admire.
She sings of hope, quiet faith and eternal life.
She weaves in out of our midst
Collecting our tears, hushed words, shared laughter and memories
As talismans against the darkness of forgetfulness
As keys to unlock the secret door to eternity.
She reminds us that her purpose here is past
That she must now leave and continue her journey
Assures us that we are still fulfilling our own individual destinies
That we must strive to enjoy the time left to us
Our own years, months, days, hours or minutes.

We must pass on those gifts of
Love and respect, patience and forgiveness
To all we meet and touch as we celebrate her life completed.

She bids us farewell, waving from the heart of those gone before
Her daughter, her husband, her mother, her grand-mother…
They embrace her, reassure her, lead her to the light
Of all knowledge and all understanding
Where we, at our appointed times, will join her.

Gone but not forgotten…
Doris Thelma Christian nee Clemo.

(c) Rosa Christian

By rosepoetartist

aka Percy Rose
Novelist
Poet
Playwright
Artist

One reply on “Of Hope and Sadness”

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