Along with the obvious, such as her kids and dogs, grand kids and God, her sisters and brothers, there's also red geraniums, hostas, ferns and roses, meatballs and ice cream, on that list of things Mom loves.
At any given moment she'll let fly an endless list of loves as random and spontaneous as anyone who knows her would expect: I love trees! And bricks! I love just sitting here! I just love watching that squirrel! And that red tail hawk! I just love watching that little Jack! And that Zeke!!! And, oh, I love seeing those big eyes of Evelyn’s! And, that Joey, I just love that boy! She also loves CNN, MSNBC, her day-time TV, the Democratic Party, and reading and reading!
She loves saving old magazines, used wooden frames of all sizes and remnants of cloth she plans to use in some undetermined sewing project, when her arthritis subsides and her fingers feel better. And she treasures old letters. ‘Remember this one?’ She hands me a letter I wrote her two decades ago. I read it and understand why she loves and saves this old stuff. (Note: I wrote and posted this nearly three years ago, when I was staying a month with my mom in Ohio. She was in great health and spirits, but died unexpectedly about six months later.)
Again and again, please❣️
Rich, your poems are excellent. Best, Bill Schwartz