Olene Pinkerton Baker -- 1921 - 1996 
In preparing the bulletin for this Sunday - Mother's Day - I decided to post a poem I wrote in honor of Mother's Day 1997. Attached are also pictures of my beautiful mom, who we lost in 1996. That time is still as fresh as if it were yesterday, but her precious memory and words filled with wisdom are ever with me and our family. Every day I wish I could call her and talk again like we use to, but that is not to be. But oh, I do still talk to her and still feel her presence.
Happy Mother's Day to my family members and friends who are mothers, to those older sweet ladies in my life who are like surrogate mothers to me, and those who are looking forward to being mothers for the first time very soon....I love you all.
In preparing the bulletin for this Sunday - Mother's Day - I decided to post a poem I wrote in honor of Mother's Day 1997. Attached are also pictures of my beautiful mom, who we lost in 1996. That time is still as fresh as if it were yesterday, but her precious memory and words filled with wisdom are ever with me and our family. Every day I wish I could call her and talk again like we use to, but that is not to be. But oh, I do still talk to her and still feel her presence.
Happy Mother's Day to my family members and friends who are mothers, to those older sweet ladies in my life who are like surrogate mothers to me, and those who are looking forward to being mothers for the first time very soon....I love you all.
Mother’s Memories
A loving smile, a gentle touch,
these are the first remembrance of mother.
Tales of “when I was a child,” with
drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks,
imagination, tales of adventures,
paper dolls, stick horses, coloring books,
rainy day cookie baking, scratching backs,
bedtime stories, lullaby, covers tucked,
a kiss goodnight --
these were mother.
With my own children now,
I try to recreate those times,
to give a sense of love,
family, and memories to cherish.
Traditions rich with laughter,
and timelessness, to carry on
through years without end.
Mothers have the ability to
direct the course of the future
of those of us who choose to heed,
with their wise and patient rule,
a listening ear, and hearts that hold on tight.
The prayers continue for the children
who have left the nest to go their own way,
the cord has been cut, but the gentle hold, never!
Treasures are made from the memories
of those who have gone on before us,
And those lives are made richer
who were once touched,
by the hand and heart of a loving mother. ©
Melissa Baker Vinson
5/97
A loving smile, a gentle touch,
these are the first remembrance of mother.
Tales of “when I was a child,” with
drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks,
imagination, tales of adventures,
paper dolls, stick horses, coloring books,
rainy day cookie baking, scratching backs,
bedtime stories, lullaby, covers tucked,
a kiss goodnight --
these were mother.
With my own children now,
I try to recreate those times,
to give a sense of love,
family, and memories to cherish.
Traditions rich with laughter,
and timelessness, to carry on
through years without end.
Mothers have the ability to
direct the course of the future
of those of us who choose to heed,
with their wise and patient rule,
a listening ear, and hearts that hold on tight.
The prayers continue for the children
who have left the nest to go their own way,
the cord has been cut, but the gentle hold, never!
Treasures are made from the memories
of those who have gone on before us,
And those lives are made richer
who were once touched,
by the hand and heart of a loving mother. ©
Melissa Baker Vinson
5/97
Great poem! You're a lovely writer and I'm so glad you have a blog!
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