In her late forties was she,
a little plump, a little sweet
a funny woman who was beautiful and chaotic,
but she won’t let you forget her so easily,
loud and bold,
she didn’t let anyone talk to her in any sort of manner,
her sass would silence you,
quick child, stand up straight-
here she comes, walking with confidence and grace.
Sunday morning runs to the market,
her favorite and least favorite thing to do,
‘I do so much for you!,’ she’ll complain,
oh ma, you know how much we love you,
her routined timetable chased her,
tick tock tick tock,
up at 7 and down by 11,
her life was simple, leave the complications aside-
she’ll say, for life was easy, breezy and cool.
A woman with a thousand dreams,
opening spas to opening restaurants,
Oh dear, she could manage it all,
she had magic lingering at the tip of her fingers,
an alchemist they would call her,
she hid in her room of expertise,
a culinary mastermind was she,
she danced besides the stove,
throwing a myriad of spices around,
pulling out recipes after recipes,
to send hungry bellies home happy.
She was a beautiful woman,
the selfie queen I like to call her,
unsolicited advice waiting patiently at the tip of the tongue,
‘I can read people,’ she promises,
it was always amusing to hear what she had to say,
unfortunately correct too- oh ma, why do you have to always be right?
one would be envious of her intrepid nature,
oh dear, she wasn’t afraid of anyone,
patience wasn’t a part of her dictionary,
Don’t make her wait- I’m telling you!
but lastly, she taught us to love,
she taught us the importance of a family,
the importance of keeping our loved ones close,
she tried to be a mother to all, I mean-
she did adapt to that role quite naturally.
A special little lady,
short and plump,
loud as ever,
full of love,
oh whose that lady- you ask?
the first love of my life- my mother of course.