Who my mom is to me ….
She was Harry and Clarinda’s baby number 3,
She was christened Shirley Irene,
She was little sister to Harry and Ken,
She was 305 Renshaw from beginning to end,
She was a child of the Depression and World War II,
She was Clawson High through and through,
She graduated high school at 16, and college at 20,
That’s where she met Frank, a guy she thought was kind of funny,
5 kids in 4 years, most would’ve thought that was enough,
But this was the generation made of “the right stuff”,
Eight years later came number seven,
You’d have thought she came straight from heaven,
She had all boys and finally a girl,
Her six grains of sand, and one shiny pearl,
With 7 kids, a husband, and a career, she went back to school to get her master’s degree,
And you kids thought you invented multi-tasking,
She didn’t have Oprah or Doctor Phil,
And for stress, you certainly didn’t take a pill,
She was cold cream on her face every night,
She didn’t need botox to keep her skin tight,
She was eat your vegetables, and clean your plate,
She was look me in the eye, and sit up straight,
She was don’t just stand there, get in and led a hand,
She was summers at the beach, playing in the sand,
She would remind you when you were getting too big for your britches,
With seven kids – she was a pro at removing stitches,
She was nothing comes easy, you work for every cent,
There was no such thing as an entitlement,
She was once you start something, you cannot quit,
She was take as much as you want, but use every bit,
She used accountability and consequences, to keep you on track,
But she always, always had your back,
She was never condescending, or critical of you,
She would encourage you in everything you do,
She was cartwheels across the gymnasium floor,
She was be a gentleman, and open the door,
She was sugar and spice and everything nice,
Charity was her only vice,
She was respect your elders, and don’t talk back,
She reprimanded you with logic, instead of a smack,
She was bus trips to DC with the senior class,
She’d bust you in the hall, if you didn’t have a pass,
She was Thanksgiving dinner, and homemade pumpkin pie,
She was Christmas stockings filled with goodies ‘til the day she died,
Apathy wasn’t an option, you can’t afford to be disengaged,
Motivation and involvement were the words of the day,
Feeling good about yourself should be innate,
But if needed, she was a pro at making you feel great,
She never interfered in your affairs,
When you needed her she was always there,
She wouldn’t dare ask – how come? Or why?
She made do with what she had, and always managed to get by,
When her mother got sick, and had to go away,
For 10 long years, she visited her nearly every day,
She was teacher, counselor, mentor, and so much more,
She was the life of the party, and never a bore,
She helped countless young men and women achieve their dreams,
She didn’t seek recognition; she was just part of the team,
She loved the arts, tending her garden, and sports of any kind,
She was a true renaissance woman, like many of her time,
She lost her husband of 53 years in 2005,
We all wondered how she would survive,
Then she met Bob, and there was no better companion,
It seemed like every year they were driving from Florida to the Grand Canyon,
She became a Spartan late in life,
Out with the maroon and cream, and in with the Green and White,
To you and me, and whoever she met,
She was one of those people you never forget,
She was full of life, and enjoying every day,
It didn’t seem right, that something would take this away,
It was a few lost words at first,
She knew this cruel disease was a family curse,
When the confusion became more frequent, and she couldn’t remember much,
Her smile never faded, there are some things even Alzheimer’s can’t touch,
In the final hours, you could sense the end was near,
A lifetime of memories filled the room, and everything seemed so clear,
No fanfare or suffering you see,
Just surrounded by family was how she wanted it to be,
In life and death she was like no other,
I’m so proud to call her my mother,
With the life she led I’m sure she’s fine,
I’m guessing right now she’s on the back nine,
You see, she’s finally got her foursome back – Shirley, Frank, Ruth, and Jim,
Once again, the women are taking quarters from the men.
Love you MOM!