Her life is a path, a journey, a song.
One note is short, the other's quite long.
She may see the signs that are posted right there
Or walk right on through, quite unaware.
You may hear her stumble as she walks round and round,
Sticking to the path that's the rocky type ground.
But a story's not done without both highs and lows,
Come sit and hear how her great one goes.
It starts with a roar, You belong over here,
We have karaoke, tennis, and bottles of beer,
The emails keep coming, they want her to join.
To learn from just them and get all her coin.
But she sees the buildings, so tall and so grand.
They sing like music to her creative hand.
She scrapbooks, and draws, and dreams that someway,
She'll build one that stands in the bright light of day.
She leaves for college to learn what she needs
When she finds a boy who’s just the bees' knees.
They graduate, get married, only to learn
Her husband is called to The Land of the Fern.
She is left alone for two full years
Working and waiting until he reappears.
They have a child, her father’s great joy
But daycare costs are not a ploy.
“I need to quit and stay home with our child.”
She said with a face both temperate and mild.
“But your dreams, my darling, to build to the sky.
What will happen to them if you choose to watch by?”
“We are a team, and this is what’s needed.”
So her dreams became more than what she had ceded.
A pastorate and job with which they gain more
With the arrival of numbers two, three, and four.
The army calls, and again they go
Minnesoda to Texas, from high to low.
From soldier to student, clergy to chaplain
She was there through all that would ever happen.
Through giving so much, she did one thing more.
My mother showed me that love isn’t a score.