Cookies with Butter

I turned on my laptop
and there was an email
my mother had written that day

She said I was special
and wanted the whole world
to know of her blessing this way

So she’d clicked the send button
less than half a few seconds
a slew of those emails went out

for this and that corner
of all G-d’s creation
To read all her words left no doubt:

I love you my daughter
my pure dear sweet daughter
in ways no one told me I could

I’d bake cookies with butter
knit you a warm sweater
whisper lullabies, then later I would

Swing and I’d slide you
count, draw and provide you
with all toys great, small and in blue

I’d read and I’d guide you
nap along side you
comb curls, kiss your toes and bruised knee

Pick you up, put you down
Hold your hand, make you stand
and show you all ways not to falter

How I’ve loved you my daughter
my pure dear sweet daughter
whose laughter I’ve lived for like water

There’s nothing I’ve found
to match that pure sound
it means there’s a heaven, you see

I love you my daughter
now grown to the rafter
in ways no one could tell you but me

I hope you’ll tuck this away
for that quiet cold day
when my steps are no longer graceful

Then bake me cookies with butter
wrap me in your warm sweater
and laugh often, I’ll always be grateful.

— Giselle M. Massi © April 12, 2010; published Aug. 1, 2010