This is from the actual book "The Heart of a Mom" This post is in response to a post from Robin Easton. More of a gift really. I know I don't blog much here but there are no word that I can convey or express half as much meaning as words that were written by my grandmother. My grandmother's written words are the last words left. They were words she used to recite to us from memory.
The poem that says my name, Shirley, is about me as a child. I'm not really much different. I get upset when my son holds a worm too long and kills it. I sit and watch the sky for stars or anything that may be in the sky. So, I guess my grandmother had her prayer answered. I only aged and got a little taller.
This next poem is sad but it is my favorite poem that my gram wrote. So, please find some Kleenex. You will need it. I need to also mention that my grammy is a coal miners daughter. This poem has led me to believe that maybe my great-grandpa died in a mining accident. I don't know this for sure and no one has ever told me where he went to. My grandmother writes based on life experiences so, this is my only assumption. Also, my grandma's middle name is Josephine so maybe she got Baby Jo's name from her own. She always had the nickname of Jo.
