These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

Mother's Day

Mother. What a title blest!
Entrusted with a living soul,
meeting life's most unique test,
engaging hope in her God-blest role.

Mother. She each heart would love,
if we would live, and wholly be.
We need her as a peaceful dove
protecting us to safety see.

But life is rarely "should" and "best,"
and Mom's not always "just a saint."
Yet, we must choose to call her blest,
obeying God, Who fills the "ain't."

Mother. Love her in her youth.
Love the one, who gave us birth.
Love her when she speaks the truth.
Love her for her lasting worth.

Mother. Life leaves tread-marks on
her aging face. Her slowing gait
may cause us angst 'til visit's done,
but we must see her before it's too late.

"Despise not thy mother when she is old,"
for she hath oft changed your diaper untamed.
Her weaknesses need not be written nor told
for yours she has hidden and honored the same.

For good or for bad, she's made us glad,
and the more that we know, she helped us to grow.
So, I really am glad she was mine from a lad.
O, how wondrously so, she still loved me I trow.

Mother. Not perfect, but perfect for me.
She made me the man, that I am here, today.
My thanks are so meager, if aught could see.
"Dear Mom, I so love you, I daily shall say!"

by Jay O’Toole
on May 6th, 2022