In My Blue Rocking Chair

I started writing about my favorite bird, the cardinal, and ended up writing about the day my mother died. Where this came from I do not know, but it tells the story of my mother's death in February, 1988.

On this particular day Daddy fixed Mother breakfast, which she ate in her blue lounge chair. He then cut a rose and put it on the table by her chair. He noticed that she had fallen asleep.

Daddy had cut a lot of roses so he left to take them to the sick and invalid. When he returned home, he found Mother still asleep in her chair. When he tried to awaken her, he realized that she had died.

In My Blue Rocking Chair

I hear you chirping happily
by my window sill.
I look out quickly,
trying to be quiet and still.

Your brilliant feathers
are crimson red.
A small little tuft
crowns the top of your head.

Your mate is nearby.
You always come in a pair.
I sit and I look
from my blue rocking chair.

This happens to be
a favorite pastime of mine,
watching the birds feed
and waiting in line.

It was on a morning
just like today
that I ate and drank coffee
and then passed away.

How peaceful it was
when I arrived in heaven.
I saw Mother and Daddy
and little Anne of seven.

To see her once again
brought joy to my eyes.
I had missed her so much
since the day that she died.

I look down below
and see the rose by my chair.
I see the anguish and tears
of the man who placed it there.

I send Ed my love and say
"Please don’t grieve for me.
I’m up here in heaven,
where I was meant to be."