The apple doesn’t fall far…

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In My Mama’s Clothes

It used to be, long ago,
in clothes she made I wore
Dresses then, jumpers too
knickers and a pinafore.

And as I grew, close to her size
her very own clothes she gave
Passed down to me, so I could be
stylish—my money to save.

There’s more to this than clothes you see,
So much more of her I wear
Vocal inflections, facial expressions,
hands waving, as I speak, in the air.

And when I stand, the rocking begins
Side to side I move
Then sitting down, I twirl my hair,
kicking cross-legged to the groove.

She and I both painters be
music lovers too!
Theatre, yarn and poetry
Beautiful things and True.

Now I find in my older years
the same plight has struck me I fear
My children and husband mock me
and think it ever so queer

That when I sit down in the evening
My head starts to loll about
I snooze and I snore like Nana
In my bathrobe, on the couch.

But if you stripped our bodies bare
similar scars you’d see
Though more on her—we’d both recount
God’s love in these memories.

-jpe
11/29/2013

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*****These drawings, though of my mom a few years ago, could easily be of me, hairstyle and all!! I am so very grateful that she has been spared through three different cancers. Her presence with me during my own health crisis this spring was and is a precious memory I shall never forget. Thank you Mom.

0 thoughts on “The apple doesn’t fall far…

    • jenpedwards says:

      Thank you Stew! I will certainly send them mom’s way! Merry Christmas to you and your family! Many blessings in your healing!!

  1. Timaree says:

    This one made me tear up! I lost my mom when I was only 24. I still needed her, darn it! I had so much love I wanted to give her still. I am so glad your mom lived through all her cancers to be here still. Families need mamas and grandmas!

    I’ve been thinking the last few days how very much like his mother my husband is looking now. I never picked up on it before but as he ages to the age when I met his mother, I can sure see it.

    My sisters and brothers do just as you say in this poem. We catch each other out on looking or acting like our mom and our dad. We all have some of their gestures or looks although not always the same ones. It’s fun and keeps our parents close to us.

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