Ultima Thule

In ancient times the northernmost region of the habitable world - hence, any distant, unknown or mysterious land.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

The Joy of her Life, The Grace of Her Days

By Aussiegirl

John B. Dwyer pens an eloquent and moving tribute to his beloved Mom. Let us all celebrate our mothers today. Happy Mother's Day!

The American Thinker

The sweet, soft airs of Spring flow across the field out back, playing a gentle song on the harp of the trees in the neighboring woods while a red-tailed hawk soars skyward, circling benediction from on high, ever upwards towards heaven where my Mom now resides. During recent years, coming back to the house from walks through that field, I would often hear my favorite bird, the Carolina Wren. It seemed that as soon as I entered the back yard, the wren would start singing. Mom would say, “Of course, it knows you’re there and it’s talking to you.”

That Nature offers us its seasonal glories is a blessing and I’ve always enjoyed walking through those seasons. For many years those walks were with Mom. Through the neighborhood we strolled, sometimes talking, sometimes not, but always appreciating the special sights, sounds and smells of spring, summer, fall and winter. Mom especially loved watching clouds, delighting in their infinite varieties and shapes. Now that Mom is gone I savor and hold dear the memories of those walks. Now on this first Mother’s Day without her I realize how truly blessed I was to have shared those days, months and years with her, and I watch clouds roll by with tears in my smile.


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