“TO MY GROWN UP SONS”
My hands were busy through the day,
I didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to,
I didn’t have much time for you.
I’d wash your clothes, I’d sew or cook,
But when you’d bring your picture book,
And ask me please share your fun,
I’d say, “A little later, son.”
I’d tuck you in all safe at night,
And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
Then tiptoe softly to the door,
I wish I’d stayed a little bit more.
For life is short, the years rushed past,
The little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no more games to play,
No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear,
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands, once busy, now lay still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I could go back and do
The little things you had asked me to.
I think most mothers feel like this….I do.
(Attributed to Debra D. Barone)
When our three children were small, I found this poem somewhere. I wept every time I read it, knowing that it was so true, and one day everything I was enjoying at that stage of their lives would “all belong to yesteryear.” Reading it now, it still brings tears to my eyes….but now I’m not thinking of myself, but of another mom. A very special mom…
On May 3, 1956, a young mother of 2 in Lujan, Province of Buenos Aires, Argentina, gave birth to her last child. He was named Jorge Alberto Nemec. Young Ana’s days were very busy with her three little ones as she worked hard at home without our modern day comforts. She bore most of the responsibility of caring for them, because her husband Esteban worked in sales and spent many days at a time on the road, away from his family….but for Ana and Esteban, time marched on, the years rushed past, and her little ones grew up and moved on. God’s plan for Jorge was to marry me, and after living in Argentina for 27 years, we relocated in Ohio.
If you would be able to peek into Ana’s house today, the same home Jorge was born on May 3, you wouldn’t see the busy mom of three little ones. You would see an 84 year old widow, sitting alone on her sofa. Her once hard-working hands are now crippled with painful arthritis, and a cane is leaning up against the sofa to support her failing legs as she shuffles around the house. You would observe her glasses right by her well-worn Bible, and you may even see her reading it. She does that often during the day. On a small table is a cassette player (Yes, a cassette player!) with ancient cassettes of old-fashioned hymns that she listens to over and over again. She spends countless hours looking at old pictures that remind her just how fast the last five decades rushed by. Within arm’s reach is the dial-up phone, and she anxiously awaits Jorge’s call every Sunday afternoon. She often expresses to him that she is ready for the Lord to take her home. Yes, life is short and years rush past….remembering that puts everything into perspective.