Eva Seals Robbins
September 2, 1927 ~ February 5, 2002
Mom, I miss you so much and
selfishly wish you were still here with me.
But I know that you were tired and ready to go home.
Now I look forward to the day that we will all be reunited.
Until I can be with you again, please take care of my Loria.
tears could build a stairway
and memories were a lane,
I would walk right up to heaven
to bring you home again
No farewell words were spoken
No time to say goodbye
You were gone before I knew it,
and only GOD knows why.
My heart still aches in sadness,
and secret tears still flow.
What it means to lose you,
no one will ever know.
If I could have a lifetime wish,
a dream that would come true.
I would wish with all my
for yesterday and you.
A thousand words can't
bring you back,
I know because I've tried.
Neither will a million
I know because I've cried.
You left behind our broken
and happy memories too.
I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you!
Loria and her
kept the well-known poem "Pennies From Heaven"
pinned up in her kitchen where she would see it daily.
I believe that she would like it if I include it here on her
I found a penny
just laying on the ground.
But it's not just a penny,
this little coin I've found.
Found pennies come from heaven,
that's what my Grandpa told me.
Grandpa said, Angels always toss them down.
Oh, how I loved that story.
He said when an Angel misses you,
they toss a penny down.
Sometimes just to cheer you up,
and make a smile out of your frown.
So don't just pass by that penny
when you're feeling blue.
It may be a penny from heaven,
that an Angel's tossed to you.
Your mother is
always with you...
whisper of the leaves
as you walk down the street.
smell of bleach
in your freshly laundered socks.
cool hand on your brow
when you're not well.
lives inside your laughter.
She's crystallized in every teardrop.
place you came from,
your first home...
She's the map you follow
with every step that you take.
and your first heartbreak...
and nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, Not
Not even death...
will ever separate you
from your mother...
You carry her
inside of you.
Author Unknown ~
Her life was not as
glorious as some,
Devoted to her children and their children,
Taken up by quiet tedium.
What's left when dreams are scattered to the wind.
She loved too well, perhaps, and fought too hard
To make a marriage work that wasn't right.
She was, of all bright loveliness, a shard
Struck off to bring our lives the gift of light.
There are those whose lives are shaped by love;
Whose pleasures, rich and full, are found in giving;
Who make our wild hearts bloom and passions move
Into measured fields made lush by living.
Without her all the gold's gone from the day;
She will be missed far more than we can say.
~ Copyright © Nicholas Gordon, reused with permission.
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