Mum

When your Mum is sadly gone
Think on
About the countless dinners on the table,
Clean sheets you slept in
Neat clothes, sweets and treats you were kept in
Holidays packed for and enjoyed
Hoovers and dusters deployed
Sympathy when you cried
Band aids and shoe polish applied
Christmas and birthday present giving
The perpetual running of everyday family living

Looking back it seems almost tragic
That we assumed all these things were somehow done by magic
It’s only when we fly the nest ourselves
We realise, often with some surprise
That life isn’t organised by a team of invisible elves

To let you flourish and be nourished and grow
Your Mum was always there
Clearing up, cheering up, bearing up
The unthanked, unsung and unconditional back room hero
Because although nobody actually asks them to
It’s what good Mums do

And when age takes it toll
And the tables are slowly turned
It’s down to us kids to return a little
Of what our Mums have surely earned

But for all her love or devotion or wealth
The biggest thing you have to thank Mum for
Is yourself.
Without her, you simply wouldn’t be
To love, to laugh, to feel and hear and see
And whilst now is a time of bereavement
What would really make her smile and feel it all worthwhile
Is to revel in what’s ahead, live life in her stead
And prove yourself her crowning achievement.

Me and my Ken

Yesterday we went to the pictures
On a drizzly Worthing night
Me and my Ken
And we had quite a hoot
A young couple stepping out from our day jobs in Boots
We saw Singing in the Rain
And we laughed when we emerged
As it was raining even harder
It extinguished our post-film cigarettes
But never our romantic ardour

Yesterday we went to church and said “I do”
On a summery Lancing Saturday
Me and my Ken
It seemed over all too soon
As we rushed off to the train for our Devon honeymoon
Getting into our going away clothes
Packing in toasts and family hugs and packing away my bridal veil
Ready for our journey on the happy marriage Express
As Mum fuelled me with rushed spoonfuls of pre-train fruit cocktail

Yesterday we had the whole family to Sunday Roast
On a warm afternoon in our forever home
Me and my Ken
Playing host to those who matter most at being joyously mortgage-free
He wrapped a tiny house and gave it to me
It wasn’t just about owning the bricks and mortar
Though of course we were richly relieved
It represented the nest that together we made the best
Where our love, goals and dreams had lived and breathed

Yesterday can seem so far away
But there’s a light that still brightens it every day
Me and my Ken
Everything and anything we did together
Wasn’t just come and gone but lives on forever
Always on my mind, he’ll never be left behind
And through laughter, love and sorrow
The one thing certain in my life and soul
Is that when I wake, he’ll still be right here with me tomorrow.

Keeping the memory alive

It’s always sad when someone’s passed away
But that’s the perfect time to seize the day
And relish all that’s passed before
By opening the door
To golden moments, funny times and warm embraces
That help us forward by travelling back to happier places.

It is a time to grieve and feel regret
But also the perfect time to not forget
A life remembered is a life that lives on
Long after flesh and blood and living in the mortal sense has gone
And while from here we feel a precious one has departed
In a more eternal place
A far off, smiling, familiar face
Will welcome their arrival
As a new journey on our never-ending road is started.

It is so hard for loved ones left behind
But if we can find the strength to choose
A happier location, deep in our imagination
For those we lose
We’ll find daily, weekly, lifelong, peace of mind
That they will never
Be truly lost forever
But always burning bright and playing their starring roles
In the playing out of life ahead, within our hearts and souls.

What Makes a Man?

In honour of Arnie. To my great friend Phil and his family.

What makes a man?
Is it what he makes of the world as a boy?
Or how he takes what he makes to shape his future?
Young lessons learned that make his dreams.
The good impression he makes to win great friends.
The effort he makes to choose the right life partner.
The talents he masters to make him a success.
The money he makes to make life worth living.
The plans he makes to realise his goals.
The sacrifices he makes so others can prosper.
The bond he makes with the family he creates.
The difference he makes in the company he keeps.
The meetings and moments he makes so memorable.
The character and charisma he makes his own.
The inner strength that makes enemies of doubt and weakness.
The human warmth that makes him cool to spend time with.
If all this makes 
A man you have known
Have lived with and loved, 
Have laughed and cried with
And spent good times with
Make the most of his memory.
Because they don’t make a man like this every day.

The Day of Your Life

In memory of my wife’s Mum, Dawne D’Souza.

A shaft of gold beams from a darkened sky
The silence broken by a baby’s cry
A ray of light and hope from morning sun
Our Dawne is here; a parent’s new joy won.

As morning glory shines on dreams of night
And life’s new path floats in on clouds of white
The day is young, your destiny untold
A life before you waiting to unfold.

Soon the sun has reached its warmest hour
And budding youth is nurtured to full flower
Your time as one becomes a time for two
The warmth of love to see a lifetime through.

The gift of life is now yours for the giving
Four seedlings sewn for all the love of living
Each prized and grown with kind and gentle care
The hours may pass but you are always there.

As afternoon slips slowly into eve
The giving comes from those who have received
As offspring fly back to your twilight rest
And bring new generations to the nest.

The shadows wait for darkness to descend
A glorious day is drawing to an end
Yet through the night we will be forlorn
For you has come the everlasting Dawn.

The Final Word

Homage to my close friend and fellow turn of phrase lover.

“Rodney recently bestowed upon his good friend Alan, the privilege of writing something on his behalf for this moment. Knowing Rodney was keen to see it, Alan prepared it to share with him but sadly, the speed of events over the following days never allowed this to happen. Yet we all know and feel that Rodney is still with us, so it’s written in the present tense and not the past. It is typed by Alan but guided by Rodney’s indomitable spirit. And expressed as his voice, his heart and soul, his unique character. After all, Rodney planned this occasion and brought us all together in his own way, to celebrate his life. It seems appropriate and only fair that in capturing his essence, Rodney should have the final word…”

I am a one-off in a world of me-toos.
I’m larger than life that appreciates the little things.
I’m a lover of questions and a reliable source of answers.   
I’m serious that loves a bit of frivolous.
I’m a giver of huge hugs and taker of a wee dram.
I win friends with care and lose no sleep over fools.
I’m angry about injustice but a calming influence. 
I am witty edge with an intellectual centre.
I’m equal and plus that never subtracts or divides.
I lead with my brain but follow my emotions.
I make you laugh and help cry your tears. 
I’m outside boring convention but inside all your hearts.
I’m the lost little boy in the man who found himself.
I’m man and kind. Human without race. Bright that sparks others.
The good guy with the wickedest laugh. 
Your favourite conversational other half.
The perfect simplicity of beautiful complexity.
Your Rodney. Utterly. Unmistakably. Eternally.
And rest assured, I’ll never be left behind.
Always there, smiling through a happy window in your mind.

Dear Dad…

You didn’t just land us on the planet
You planned it all ahead 
To put my little Sis and me in good stead
To be grounded and well-rounded people
Surrounded by affection 
And sound in the foundation of a loving background.

You gave us the appreciation of little treats
And a horror of sticky sweets
Like long-buried Lockets fossilised in windcheater pockets. 
You shared your fascination for what makes things tick
Marvelling us with your magic touch
That restored once ailing machines to good nick. 

You taught us how to manage money 
The joy of being mischievously funny
The classical appreciation of Radio Three
As you sat in your headphones, squirrelling peanuts
Lip-reading the evening’s programmes on TV. 

You showed us the inner strength of being quiet 
Although we didn’t often try it
Until we realised that stopping to take the world in
Is where true enlightenment can often begin. 

You accustomed us to comforting tenderness and hugs
So sadly missed with frustration in these distanced days of self-isolation         
You showed us how to purloin a second slice of cake at tea
“Oh goodness, well perhaps the merest soupçon for me!”

You ingrained in us that as long as you’ve done your best
You can rest on your laurels
And that quarrels far less frequently ensue
When seeing things from each other’s point of view.

You inspired, and shared so much with, us Dad
How could we not still be sad?
Even now, twenty years on since you’ve been gone                                  
But as true Mosses, we leave no rolling stone unturned
To uphold the legacy of spirit, kindness and humanity
That you have truly earned.

And if you’ve ever worried of what would become
Of your darling Gill, our ever-loving Mum
You have so much to be proud of
And so little to fear
Because in heart and head and soul she knows
You’re always with her here.