Eileen was my mother and we buried her today. It is important to me to take some time as we lay her to rest to honor my hero - my father, Frank.
If I had a 100 lifetimes and every word ever originated, it would not be enough to express the selfless, loving, care that he took of my mom, always - but most especially these last three months.
My father was her protector, her advocate, her champion. When she hurt, he hurt. At today's mass, the officiant talked about modeling the love of Jesus for others. My father truly cared for my mother in a way that exemplified the love of God. Mom carried a heavy cross at the end, and my father was there holding it with her, feeling the weight of it every step of the way.
This poem is dedicated to him today:
When she was tired; you were strong
When she felt alone; you did not leave
When she gave in; you did not give up
Whenever she fell; you lifted her up
Whenever she despaired; you loved her all the more
And even when she had not the words to speak
Her heart knew that you were her angel
With respect, gratitude and an abundance of love,
Maryellen
