Your mother is always with you

A beautiful memorial poem by Deborah R. Culver 

"Your mother is always with you.

She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk 

down the street. She’s the smell of certain 

foods you remember, flowers you pick, 

the fragrance of life itself. 

She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re 

not feeling well. She’s your breath in the air

on a cold winter’s day. She is the sound of the 

rain that lulls you to sleep, the colours of the rainbow. 

She is Christmas morning. 

Your mother lives inside your laughter. 

She’s the place you came from, your first home. 

She’s the map you follow with every 

step you take. She’s your first love, 

your first friend, even your first enemy. 

But nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time. Not space. 

Not even death."

For many, the passing of their mother can feel like losing part of their own identity. This poem is a thoughful reminder of the many ways a mother continues to live on although she is no longer here.