Not Enough Time

My biological mother passed away when I was three. Thinking about her in June of 2004, I wrote this poem about not having the time I wanted with her.

Not Enough Time

Three years, too short to last,

It went away so fast.

My mother had to go,

Why, I wanted to know.

Too young to understand,

But did I hold her hand?

Did I know it was death,

Watch her take her last breath?

Was I by her bedside,

Did I sit and abide?

Watch her fading away,

Cry, begging her to stay?

Did I silently sit,

Or did I throw a fit?

While it slowly took her,

Did I feel calm and sure?

Three years-hardly enough.

I think of all this stuff,

And wonder, could I grow,

If only I could know?

Wax strong in the Spirit,

Not feel like I’ve been hit.

Remember my mother,

And know when I see her?

Know that she’s my mother,

And I belong to her,

That I am not alone,

And she will help me home.

I’m sure that by her side,

I will gladly abide.

There in her loving arms,

I’ll be quite safe and warm.

In her embrace of love,

I’ll live with her above,

Relive the years I lost,

For just a little cost.

Live in righteousness well,

So with her I can dwell.

Do the best I know how,

Just like I want to now.

Live my life righteously,

Be the best I can be.

So I can see my mother,

And live again with her.

The Spirit tells me this,

I know nothing’s amiss.

I need to do what’s right,

And walk within the light.