February 15th……..”DID YOU AND YOUR MOTHER, CLARICE, HAVE A SPECIAL FAREWELL GREETING OVER THE YEARS?”
POEM – “We’d Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye” by N. Elliott Noorlun
687-2851,
May be just a number to you,
But for half a century, When we rang that phone,
We found a love so true.
We’d get advice, or recipes,
Our mom was always there,
Especially when a loved one needed,
Her gentle fervent prayer.
Her first born loyalty, And zest for right,
Her desire to always be fair.
You just had to ask, No matter the task,
Her love could never wear.
On Saturday night, I’d call her up,
To see if I could bring,
Some supper for us both to enjoy,
As we’d watch “The Welk Show” sing.
Mom would talk about, The latest news,
She saw in our hometown paper,
And we’d sometimes giggle, About the family back home,
And what was their latest caper.
What tender times there, With our mom,
Just being near her then,
To reminisce the sweet days back,
In the golden you know when.
And anytime you mentioned,
The name of Clarice’s mother,
Her countenance glowed, And easily showed,
Intense love like no other.
As life moved on, It carried me,
Across the deep blue sea.
Our Saturday nights, Were to be no more,
T’was a fact that had to be.
So Thursdays became, A time for us,
To connect by means of phone.
To hear her voice, Was elixir to me,
A happy comfort zone.
We’d chat about, Each other’s life,
About family and friends,
We’d laugh about some silly times,
Until we’d get the bends.
And when our call, Would wind its way,
Down to a placid close,
I’d nurture the moment intentionally,
To capture the sweet repose.
It was just like when, I was so young,
At day’s end for this child,
Mom offered a blessing, At the end of each call,
To me was loving and mild.
Rather than just say “Goodbye”,
With its finality,
We’d say, “Good Night!”, At the end of the call,
For it held possibility.
For at this child’s, Time for bed,
We’d say a gentle, “Good Night”,
For next came our “Good Morning!”,
At the dawn of new day bright.
But on June 15th, Of ’17,
T’was the last time I would hear,
Mom’s voice that always lifted my heart,
Her voice that was so dear.
So that “Good Night”, At the end of our call,
Was the last time I would know,
The soothing sound, Of our blessed mom,
Before our tears would flow.
For on June 23rd, She received His call,
A Direct Line from His Glory,
It was time for our mom, To “answer that line”,
And call to a close her story.
I am so glad, Even through my tears,
That we ended our calls in our way,
For it’s not, “Goodbye Mom!”, “It’s just Goodnight!”
Till we meet in Heaven’s Day!!! ><>
Norwegian Farmer's Son 