I Call Her Mother

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Although I came not from her womb,

I grew up alongside her daughter,

She became my second mother.

She taught us both math and science.

She told me not to count my fingers.

She said i must learn to think.

She let us crush ice with our feet,

Until we jumped away with cold!

I slept overnight,

Sometimes we camped out in the yard.

I played outside, making up games,

With my little friends,

She let us splash in puddles,

after a heavy rain.

The days grew thin; soon--

The unbaked cookies, early morning tv shows,

And warm hugs grew to a close.

We were on our way to the meeting,

My daddy at the wheel,

I sitting in the back,

Wishing I could be sitting in

Her car with my best friends.

I was jealous I could not.

My daddy answered a call---

A prado had totalled her little green car;

She died an instant death,

Her arms on the steering wheel.

I cried and cried the way back,

I cried and cried and didn't go to see the car.

I cried for Mary, because she died.

I cried for her children, they had no mother.

My sister thought I'd be crying about my friend,

I cried because my mother was dead.

At her daughter's bedside I sat and held her hand,

As she recuperated under a spell,

While her younger sister and brother,

Both lay in the intensive care unit.

At her funeral many people came,

At the young age she left us,

There were many to bid farewell.

I sat aside, a child;

I was there for my friend and cousin,

Who had escaped with only a sprain.

I learned to think and make life worthwhile

As I grew up to be an adult.

"Mommy, I know my sums now,

I can add without counting fingers"

I've learned to cry without being shy,

Because after all it was you my mother who died.

V>P