Today marks the year anniversary sine an accident in Greece robbed my brother and I or our beloved Mother, students of a fountain of knowledge and friends of her wonderful support and laughter. Many of you probably don't know that Bill is the real writer in the family. I remember my Mom being somewhat shocked when he wrote her his first poem - but where that talent came from was revealed when a poem my Grandfather had written was unearthed years ago. My Grandfather wrote home to his local newspaper during WWII from "Somewhere in Iran".....here is that poem followed by Bill's last poem to my Mom which he wrote in the car on our long drive home to deal with a life without her....
Thursday, July 8th, 1943
Somewhere in Iran, where the sun is like a curse; and each day is followed closely by another slightly worse; where the red brick dust blows thicker than the shifting desert sand, and a Yankee's wishful thinking's for a cleaner, fairer land.
Somewhere in Iran, where a woman is never seen, where the sky is never cloudy and the grass is never green, where the Jackal's nightly howling robs a man of blessed sleep, where there isn't any whiskey and the beer is never cheap.
Somewhere in Iran, where the nights are made for love, where the moon is like a spotlight and the southern cross above, sparkles like a diamond necklace on a the throat of tropic night, tis a shameful waste of beauty for there's not a gal in sight.
Somewhere in Iran, where the postman comes so late, that a Christmas Card in April is considered up to date, where we never have a payday so of course have not a cent, but we do not miss the money, cause we couldn't get it spent.
Somewhere in Iran, where the snakes and lizards play, where a thousand sand flies gather to replace each one you slay, take me back to Arkansas, let me hear the mission bell, for this God forsaken outpost is a substitute for Hell.
That poem is framed and hanging in our hallway. A wonderful reminder of the man my Grandfather was and of his service to our country. And now, my brother's poem...it is not a long leap to see where the way with words came from...
A Children's Goodbye
To go as you did with a passion for life, it makes one scratch their head.
Gone in a flash, no last goodbye, so many things things left unsaid.
We thought about this day. We tried to prepare, an impossible thing to do.
You thought about this day. You did prepare, your "Mom Sense" gleaming through.
The months ahead will be tough to face without you by our side.
At times we've struggled to find our ways. We need you here to guide.
But life just happens, what a futile thought to ponder the question why.
We know you are at peace right now, shining down through heaven's eye.
Across the chasm, through life's secret door, your ultimate trip indeed.
Worldly constraints, released to explore: a traveling soul set free.
So many lives you touched in time, you gave yourself to us all.
You nurtured us and picked us up, after every stumble or fall.
You never placed pressure on Beth or me, to be the things we were not.
Happiness and integrity, you explained, were things that could never be bought.
Another lesson you taught the world, was to live by the Golden Rule.
Failure to follow invoked from your lips the infamous word...Fool!
Mom, you are the ONLY one who knew every detail of our lives.
Please know we will do whatever we can to assure your spirit survives.
Your gift of knowledge will last forever, you gave it every day.
Your ability to inspire, give guidance and love can never be taken away.
We're comforted in knowing you forged your path to show us what is true.
We want to tell you one last time how much we both love you.
So as we mourn this incredible loss, we'll remember that you are.....
The one who gave the world to us to wish upon a star.
Nobody could ever say it better.
