My beloved mother passed away on Tuesday, March 6, 2012.
When I arrived Saturday, and she saw me, my mother’s first words were, “There’s my beautiful daughter.”
And I cried because I knew that these might be the last words I ever heard from her.
When I was a little girl, she read me “The Children’s Hour“ by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and introduced me to poetry, dance and music.
I realize now, in my grief for her passing, that it was her vibrant spirit, and love of poetry that led me to my career and empowered my own soul for creating my passionate life, business and success I’m profoundly grateful for.
Poetry is special to me; it speaks to me just as my mother did. It has its own healing powers. I feel them now that I need them so much more.
More than words themselves, this poem sends me back in time. I always loved the images of the little girls sneaking down the stairs and the exotic idea of the Mouse – Tower” on the Rhine
In my mother’s final hours, I read her “The Children’s Hour” every night. She told me that she remembered it; that is a great comfort to me now and will be for the rest of my life.
Before she left, my mother said these words to me again, “There’s my beautiful daughter.”
Again, I cried.
My dear friend, Amy Dachs wrote these comforting words to me:
“Life is so short but you were lucky you have a Mom you obviously love and I’m sure loves you deeply. Look at the woman she created in you.. She created a work of art who adds life, love, heart, soul and wisdom to the planet and all whom you touch. I feel like I’ve been touched by your Mom in knowing you – so that’s a testament to the power of her reach”
(Poem #1396) The Children’s Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall-stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old moustache as I am
Is not a match for you all?
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeons
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I love you, Mommy, and your beautiful spirit will live on in me forever and ever and ever….
Posted in Uncategorized