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Pink Feathers

Remembering Mama

I remember Mama, who always worked so hard. Working in the house, planting flowers in the yard. Canning her own vegetables, sewing on a quilt, Always providing enough, for the family that she built. Times back then were harder. She must have struggled so. But by the way she smiled and laughed, you would never know.

She was the wisest woman I ever met, oh the stories she could tell.

She was beautiful inside and out with a voice like a nightingale.

Intelligent and articulate, she could take a joke. She could be loud and brassy. People knew when Mama spoke.

Her meals were always wonderful, she seemed to make them out of air.

If you came to visit she would offer you a chair. Mama, always smelled so good. she always had such style. I would give most anything to talk with her a while. But Mama is gone now, but the memories remain.

I will remember Mama.

Till I see her once again.

 
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By: Lisa ‘DacsMommy’ Cummings, See Original Post Here

 
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