Dear Mom,
While you passed away several years ago, there isn't a day that goes by that you don't come to mind. The flowers I will put out at your grave may console me, but I know the greatest gift I can give you today, and everyday, is a bouquet of prayers for the repose of your soul. I am comforted to know that if you are not in purgatory and in no need of my prayers, they will go to some other mother in need of them. You wouldn't have it any other way. I entrust you to the Blessed Virgin Mary, whom I also honor this day Mother's Day.
I now give this bouquet of thanks:
The first rose is for saying "YES" to life - my life.
The second rose is for all of those diapers you changed.
The third rose is for always feeding your children and husband before yourself.
The fourth rose is for all of the sleepless nights you had to care for me while I was sick.
The fifth rose is for the times you invited me as a young child to assist you in the kitchen, even though I was more of a hindrance than a help.
The sixth rose is for telling me how you let your stroke-ridden grandmother do the dishes knowing you would have to quietly redo them after she went for a nap.
The seventh rose is for not letting me barricade myself in a room while relatives paid a visit.
The eighth rose is for making me come in the house when the street lights went on.
The ninth rose is for making me laugh.
The tenth rose is for going to Mass every Sunday unless you were half-dead.
The eleventh rose is for being a witness to charity.
The twelfth rose is for being my mother and my friend.
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The obedient are not held captive by Holy Mother Church;
it is the disobedient who are held captive by the world!
- Diane M. Korzeniewski
it is the disobedient who are held captive by the world!
- Diane M. Korzeniewski
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