I found the letters quite by accident
as I was looking through an old chest.
They were yellowed and had faded a bit
but they were from the one I loved best.
My mother's words written years ago,
when she wrote just to pass the time
in the nursing home, were full of love
there in each and every single line.
She told me how she spent her day
and how good the nurses were being.
She asked me how I was feeling,
she was having some trouble seeing.
She wrote about going out for ice cream
when she was able to get out for a ride,
of visiting with me and noticing the changes
in the little town where she used to reside.
Funny that she never complained at all
about having to leave her beloved home.
I paused in reading to brush away a tear
making its way down my cheek alone.
Some things will fade from memory but
I'll keep her letters, read again each page.
They're worth much more to me than gold,
these letters that are yellowed with age.
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