Mother

Today would have been my grandma’s 100th birthday.

My mother and sister recognized the occasion by placing sunflowers in the surf on a Pacific-coast beach. My grandpa would have been pleased by the gesture. He loved California.

When I think of my grandma, I think of her wearing white gloves to every outing and her long silver hair neatly tied in a bun.

I also remember her encouraging all her grandchildren to write. I learned later that she was a writer and a poet.

Here’s one of my favorites:

Mother

Yours the hand that held me tight
when first I learned to walk.
Your kind eyes that smiled on me,
encouraged me to talk.

Yours the lips that kissed away
each tear that hurt would bring.
Your songs have made me dream of bells,
the sweetest that could sing.

Your praise, now that I am older
and life success seems near,
is still the sweetest praise
I hope, on earth, to hear!

Josephine Emily Phillips