Doug's poem to Mother in 1999. . .year Paul, his 1st son was born

Mom holding little Doug, her last baby.  . .the blessing of a godly mother.

Poem by  Doug Wirth to Norma Jean Wirth

Mother’s Day 1999

When I drew my first breath, you were there

And all of my days were spent in your care.

You loved me and taught me what I’d need to know,

If into a man, I ever would grow.

When I’d skin my knee, Mom’s name I would cry,

And with your gentle hand, you’d wipe the tears from my eye.

I remember the puppies you bought us one year,

And how when they died, you shared in our tears.

At bedtime you’d read us the “Little House” book,

And at supper time, nobody compared to our cook.

When I was a little boy, you almost died,

I prayed and I prayed, I cried and I cried.

I remember the picnics on Bonpas Creek,

And attitude adjustments across my cheek.

When I was in 8^th grade, some of my friends went wild,

And you took time to listen to your heart broken child.

Then off to the ballgames, year after year,

In all of that noise, I could pick out Mom’s cheer.

Then into the Marine Corps, I just had to go,

And watching you leave, my heart felt so low.

Home for vacations, through the window I’d sneak,

Then sneak into Mom’s room to kiss her sweet cheek.

Through all of the years, you followed God’s plan,

And guided your little boy from childhood to man.

Soon I will have a son of my own,

And pass on to him the love that you’ve shown.

This Mother’s Day poem, to you Mom I send,

You’re more than my Mother; you’re my Mother and Friend.

dew 1999