Fading Mom by Janice D. Green When Mom was young She cared for me She wiped my tears And fixed my knee And as I grew She was my friend She met my needs And lent her hand. But then I moved So far away And failed to call And share my day. I dreamed of things That we might share Another day When I got there. But years have passed, Shared moments few, With miles between Where loneliness grew. She’s ninety-three Can barely hear; I hold the phone And shed a tear. Before her years Slip away Enjoy your mom Day by day.
