Mom

I remember the day that I asked you to be my mom.

I was sitting in your lap feeling the hairbrush

Slide through my long brown hair.

We would sit there together

For minutes that seemed like hours,

Brushing my long hair,

Feeling the silky tresses,

Moving the strands back and forth,

Piling it up atop my head,

Or braiding it down it’s length.

I asked, “Joan, will you be my mommy?”

I saw you beam back at me, “Of course! I already am!”

The years passed, and our bond grew.

You took us to softball games and practice,

We would sleep in on Saturday,

And stargaze on lazy summer nights.

It was perfect and simple.

You knew how to celebrate -

You would surprise us with streamers and matching decor,

Balloons, and confetti.

You made sure it was our day.

The one day a year we could belong to ourselves

And fulfill our deepest desires.

You knew how to spoil us.

When I graduated high school,

You were beaming with pride.

None of us could believe I made it.

We celebrated with a Disney trip;

It truly was magical.

It wasn’t always perfect.

We fought or disagreed like any parent or child,

But I always knew I could go back home,

If I needed to.

And I did, but now I can’t.

When your first grandbaby was born,

You took on my nephew like he was your own.

In fact, he was for a time.

He loved shopping at “Grandma’s” A.K.A. Walmart with you

And eating Dunkin Donuts and drinking coffee on Saturday morning.

We always made sure to have your extra cream and sugar

With a Boston Cream donut or two.

You always said, “Save your money,

But splurge on yourself every once in a while.”

You lived your life big.

You always told me, “Be yourself and dream big…”

You always wanted me to go back to school,

And get my degree.

She was so proud of me,

And even though she’s gone,

I keep going because

She was MOM.

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/pilotonline/name/joan-ramirez-obituary?pid=199624049