For Your 80th. Birthday, Mother
Well, today you're 80, Mother, and there's some things I'd like to say
Before our time together has faded far away.
When I was small, you were always there
To bandage knees, to comb my hair,
To lift me up when I fell down,
To make a smile out of my frown.

When I wanted to be an entrepenuer,
You were up to your elbows in worm manure.
And when I started my own bait stand,
You caught minnows and bugs to give me a hand.

Each day of my childhood you were right there for me,
Then, when I felt grownup, your love set me free.
And thought we've had problems, (seems neither one of us budges),
You've mended the fences and never held grudges.

You even left Daddy for the first time, I guess,
To drive a jalopy way out to the West
For a hardheaded son who just wouldn't admit
That he missed both his parents lots more than a bit.

All through the years even though I'm now grown
I've always been sure that I wasn't alone.
And when I was low as low could be,
You never once abandoned me,
But through your generous love and help,
Restored and helped me help myself.

I guess, Mother, what I'm trying to say
Here on this very special day
Is "Thanks" for good things that happened back when.
"Thanks" for being my Mother, and being my friend.

Love, Bill

(written for my husband to his mother - August, '92)

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Joan Babcock -