A Guiding Hand Placed Just Before Us

Everyday I try hard to deal with grief and yet I miss my Mother around.  It is hard to forget the last 16 or so years when we were so close to each other.   Most of the regular tasks and enjoyments of life were shared with her.  Even M. occasionally admits that it isn’t the same and gets very sombre.  These past weeks in Arizona I realize just how poignant it is to remember and want the feel of the hug, the brush of the lips on the cheek for a kiss, the smile on the face or enjoy the willingness to always share  life and the want to accompany where ever you go.

No there isn’t much I do that Momma isn’t there or was there with me doing it.  If I wash clothes I then miss her doing the laundry.  Each towel perfectly folded on top of each other, smelling so fresh and fragrant.  Each shirt or pants pressed to the “t’s” and each sock alwys twinned with its right partner.  Some how my finished laundry is never as delightful to see, hold and smell as my Mother’s.

The passage of time may make these occasions seem less poignant in the future, but in a way I hope that it stays with an intensity that remains constant so that the tactile memories are still sentitive and clear.

Today a friend of mine asked me if my sister was like my Mother.  This led into a long and involved chat, because to answer the question simply is a “no”, but to be able to answer the question completely takes the time to give some interesting differences.  It was a pleasant conversation because I enjoyed finding some old memories to give exampes of the differences and similarities between my Mother and my sister.

As I reflect on so many wonderful memories, they do make my happy.  They also make me yearn for a touch or even the smell of cologne as you open her closet door upstairs.  More importantly, I am beginning to believe she is about, here or wherever, guiding and influencing the tasks and enjoyments my sister and I have. 

It is good to remember and yearn.  It is good to imagine the touch and actually remember tactilly what was felt on a past day.  All of that will lead me to smile brighter one day!!



Each week I do the laundry and you visit,

As I sort the clothes, I know it is you that guides me.

Put the Darks with Darks, Lights with Lights and I will remember

Whites are something different from the lights.

Sis wrote this week that you are in her and with her

as she scurries to bake and cook, to dust and clean!

It is you, guiding and inspiring her on to do all the things

you loved to do and what always are not her favorite!


No matter what I decide to do, suddenly I feel a guiding touch,

Warmly placed upon my hand, a touch that says to remember you.

Now when I take a pot, grab a cloth, chop a carrot I feel you say

“check and see and know that just may be some dust is still under the bed!”


Your touch upon our grocery cart, leads us to memories of family meals made by you and

directs our course through the aisles, as we look upon the items on the shelf.

We stop for no reason, smile and see that certain something sitting there upon the shelf,

That certain something surely missed when we are at home.


Then at a another time as we travel along, first a shoe catches the eye,

Then a sweater, a scarf or particularly for me, the glistening gems in the jewelry counter,

The glistening colors beckon me to stop, first to buy for you and then I know its not to buy,

It is a moment to take to remember and be with you.


Your little hand guides us both along our way, in and out of the house.

During the day or in the middle of the night you visit to help me on my way.

But, just to say that it is even more than your guidance that I treasure and Sis remembers

It is that you are in our hearts each and every day in a very golden way.


Let Sis set her table when company comes with your china, silver flatware and fine linen napkins,

Watch me when I bake a tender cinnamon roll and bring it to the table hot from the oven,

Your tender touch will always be upon our minds, hands, and memories too,

That guide us to do the best we can and brings to mind the hundreds of your dinners upon those plates.


You my Momma, you will always be there with us every step of the way.

As we travail upon our new forged path with memories tucked with in our hearts,

You will be there guiding us on and helping us to find our way through the strange new time,

Realizing that you have never left, but rather you are just leading the way.


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