Though you were old enough to need some rest.
Now you are eighty and alone,
Rattling on within your empty nest.
Though we no longer live within your doors,
You will always live within our hearts.
I think of you, and that sweet thought restores
My happiness, as my own Red Sea parts.
This you've done for me, more than the toil,
The prostrate nights, the scarce funds spent, the pain:
Your love and selflessness have been the soil
In which my life can always bloom again.
I cannot think what I would do or be
Without the love that you have given me.
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