Pink carnations were my mothers favorite flower. To her it was much more beautiful than a rose. When I see one my eyes start to shower. The good memories of her come back as a smile is exposed. I feel so bad because I know her life was so full of pain. Many situations made it difficult for her to overcome. Yet, she was especially good to me, as the youngest, her memory remains. Still remembering her voice and the pictures, I still have some. So, to you, mom, I hope you are at peace. Resting with the angels above. Walking on clouds as soft as the lightest fleece. Surrounded by nothing but love.
©robwjeter
R