The Angel who married my Old man.

It is not the flowers or the ring on her finger or that look she wears when she hears you shout at someone, but

It is the sweet smell of her perfume and the scent of her hair oil

It is the way she beautifully arranges the photos around the house

It is the way she serves us, her favorite snack-savory popcorn, now ours too

It is the way she glides around the house, never taking a minute to rest till she is sure we are all well

It is the softness in her voice as she encourages everyone to take an afternoon nap, so she can do the clean up after the sumptuous afternoon meal.

It is the warm smile on her face as she asks if we enjoyed our naps

It is the pat on the back and the warm embrace she gives, anytime

It is her indescribable hospitality, always

It is the wisdom she shares whenever opportunity strikes

It is the prayer and bible study at midnight

It is just sitting and catching up on the day’s activities

It is the hilarity about someone’s latest boyfriend or just the excitement as she shares stories from her teenage days.

I am not sure what she really does to make that house a home, but without doubt, she is the M, in our HOME! She is our ever-lovely, Mother.

Poem by Ruth Blessing Kobusinge


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s