She was away for such a long time,
To see her native country and relatives,
When she left, last year in December,
Shedded a few tears, so I could remember.
She left to Paris with Anne-Marie,
So that she wasn’t by herself, there.
Poor Dad had been left with me!
For breakfast, supper and tea,
Although, there were a few rough times,
My father treated me, oh so kind!
We knew we had each other to put up with,
But that feeling of real ‘father-son’ came up.
At times, I was amazed to hear the encouragement,
That he was presenting, all the time to me.
I thought he had changed being a little lonely,
But that was not to be.
The last week before Mum arrived,
The arguments were being lashed at me.
When mother arrived, I was there to greet her,
And cry with happiness in my eyes.
She had not looked tired, but overjoyed,
To see the three of us waiting with glee.
To be back home, where the cows go to the paddock,
And to express and show pictures of her trip.
Those four and a half months, that went past,
For me, the time seemed to linger on…
Yet now, only weeks away,
No questions asked or answers for Mum.
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