A Babe In My Mothers Arms

This is a poem about my Mother. Five days ago she came home from work, not feeling good at all. She was taken into ER then admitted to the hospital. One kidney has failed and the other one is not functioning well. In less than a week, she has gone from an energetic and active eighty-nine year old woman who still worked and so enjoyed life, to being bedridden and becoming weaker every day. I tried to write a poem about her and all she has given us over so many years. She has been a true blessing to us, my six siblings and I, all our children and grandchildren. She is the Heart and Matriarch of five generations.

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One of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, is a babe in my Mothers arms.

We place a new little one in her arms and that babe knows what true love is.

I love to watch Mother hold a baby. I look at her face and see the joy Mother feels as she gently takes the baby, brings it up to her shoulder, and kisses the babe on the back of the neck.

It is a very old folklore belief that a kiss on the back of a babys' neck is a blessing.

Mother lays the babe down in one arm and with the other hand she touches the babes' soft hair, the tiny ears, the tip of the nose, each little finger she caresses, then peeks at the feet and lightly wiggles each tiny toe.

We tease her when she does that, saying she is counting to make sure all fingers and toes are there.

She blushes, then swaddles the babe in a blanket, rocks and sings a lullaby.

With seven children, many grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren, Mother has had many babes to bless, rock, and sing to.

Each time I see her hold and care for a baby, I know that is how she once held and cuddled me and it makes my heart sing joyfully.

Many years ago, Mother was a nurse in the biggest hospital in our city. She worked in the nursery.

New parents always asked, please let that gentle, loving nurse take care of my baby. Mother has given so many babes a good start in life, knowing they are loved and made comfortable.

So many memories Mother has given us, me and my siblings. She has always been there for us each time a new child comes into this world as a member of our family.

She has taught us how to pray and have faith in God. For the little ones who were born weak and had just a small chance of surviving, she prayed with us and held us up. All our babies survived and lived to be held and loved in Mothers' arms.

Each baby has grown knowing the love and tenderness of Mother. Most of those babies now are much taller than Mother and have to lean down to hug her. She is a tiny woman, yet has had so much strength in all ways.

When we were little kids, we lived on farms. Mother took care of the backyard animals, the chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese, the cats and dogs.

She drove a tractor or truck when extra help was needed during harvest time. She canned or preserved all the vegetables and fruits we needed to last the winter.

She baked all our breads, and with each batch she made for the week, she made sure cinnamon rolls were on the breakfast table on Sunday mornings.

Most of our clothes were made by Mother until we were teenagers. Christmas and birthday gifts were embroidered tablecloths and napkins, crocheted doilies, or embroidered kitchen towels and pillow cases.

My Mothers' hands were always busy making something for us, healing us from our scratches and bruises, brushing our hair, or stirring up a batch of fudge, cookies, or a cake.

Our school lunches were always ready to go each weekday morning, and they were packed with nutrition and love.

Mother makes every holiday a joy and a blessing. Her traditions have been carried down from her parents and passed on to us.

A candle is always placed in the window for those who are far away and cannot visit on Christmas day.

So many things Mother has given us and we have been blessed with a dear soul to love and take care of us.

Mother survived colon cancer. She survived when her heart weakened and she had to have a pacemaker.

When our eldest brother died a few years ago, it was almost unbearable to go on. The pain and anguish was just too strong. We almost lost Mother then -- but, we all prayed each other through.

Her first-born, the first babe she held and nurtured was gone. She had no place to commune with him, no grave, for he was cremated, which she does not believe in.

Her sorrow was deep. Little Brother built her a garden and we all came together to create a Memorial Garden for Brother in her own back yard.

Mother would sit out there in the quiet mornings and pray for her first-born, for his soul and peace for him. It gave her the strength and peace she so needed. It eventually brought joy, for she felt close to him again.

Mother prayed us through all our illnesses, our wounds, physical and emotional. She prayed us through our whole lives.

Now we take turns being with Mother, she will not be left alone as she lies in her hospital bed, or when she is able to come back home.

She is eighty-nine and her kidneys are failing -- She refuses dialysis or any surgery.

We have talked with her a great deal with and without the doctors. She knows what she wants and we must respect her wishes and honor that.

She has her reasons, her thoughts, her beliefs. When her time comes, she says, she wants to go home just the way she is now.

We all stood around her bed and prayed together for her as she prayed for us.

We then each took turns leaving to "go to the bathroom", so we could go outside and find a quiet place to cry and find our own strengths -- to pray for strength for all of us in the coming days and weeks ahead.

We do not know how much longer Mother will be with us. This is between Mother and God now -- she has put it in the hands of the Lord.

There is a Healing Garden on the hospital grounds, and I sat there alone, not knowing what to say to our Lord. I just cried silently as I watched the little birds play around the pond and waterfall. Mother so loves birds.

Do you hear my thoughts, do you know what is in my heart, Dear God? Do you know what each of us needs and wants to say now? I wish that once more, I was a babe in my Mothers' arms.

Mother has always been so strong in heart and spirit -- so energetic, active.

It is so hard to see her suddenly become so weak and frail. I feel like a child and want to run away somewhere and throw a tantrum, scream and cry -- and demand WHY?!!!

I know we all must come to the point in life when our bodies begin to fail us. When life is approaching the end.

The thoughts running through my mind are maddening -- jumping around from one emotion to another, I feel scattered, pulled apart.

Please, please, make me as strong as my Mother is. Can I pray Mother through to healing, Dear God?

As she prayed us through all the bad times, can we pray her through -- or is it time we pray for her to find the strength and courage she will need to leave us and come home to you?

Thy will be done, is that all I can say?

We pray for peace for her soul, for her heart to not be full of sorrow, but full of peace and love, for her to feel the love she has given us that comes right back to her.

Day by day, Mother is weakening more, yet she still smiles that beautiful smile we so love as we lean down and kiss her cheek.

Is that her tear or mine I feel on my face?

We feel so helpless, yet we stand together. We must give the strength and support to each other that is needed -- and we each must find our own peace and serenity.

I cannot write what is in the hearts and thoughts of my siblings, for we each have our own special memories to hold dear. We each have our own way of grieving.

When Little Brother took his turn for a break, he looked determined, like he had something important in mind. He was gone a little longer than normal.

When he came back, he placed a beautiful stuffed animal in Mothers' arms. It looks just like her own little dog at home that she misses so much and loves dearly. The joy on Mothers' face was like it always is when a babe is placed in her arms.

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© Copyright Phyllis Doyle Burns 2011
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