One Last Time.

Ever feel you wish you had that one last call. Just to say I love you and don’t want to go, God should wait. I need to put my head on your shoulder one last time. Just for you to say “it’s going to be okay Frankie”, “I support you”, “your my Frankie you can do it, be patient”. I just need to hear your voice, to her you say to a friend “my Frankie”. Maybe just to even hear her voice on a voicemail “Frankie it’s mommy, call when you can, I guess your not home”. Yes, I am my mothers son.

These difficult and challenging times, she would understand. She went through something very similar at one time. She would understand. I want to be able to draw on the strength she had, she was stronger. She was my rock, my mom, my friend, she was always there. But now she’s in heaven. And I pray to her. I ask for her strength and guidance. I wonder how she would handle things. I sometimes get signs from her. But I want to her that voice just one last time.

One Last Time

She came from a different generation, she knew how to deal. She shielded me. I was her Frankie, of course. I was her son. Whatever I needed I had. She protected me from those who meant me harm as a baby and felt I shouldn’t have been born. I felt that tummelt from the womb. There was much chaos going on. But I was safe. She always kept me safe.

She loved me. Dad loved me
She loved me. Dad loved me

That’s what mothers do for their children. A momma polar bear protecting her cub. She protected me all 51 years. Protect me from heaven mommy and guide me.

Just one last time
Just one last time

I pray to you…………

IMG_0615.PNG

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s