This weekend my youngest son will marry
She is a gift, this answer to the Ephesians 3:20 prayer I have been sending up for my children these past two years
He will marry a beautiful girl whose light shines from her eyes
when she tells stories about her second-grade students at the dinner table.
When she expresses her concerns about their antics.
When she voices she just wants them to be the best person they could be.
I remember this voice, this teacher heart, in the voice of my son’s grandmother,
his Lola, my mother.
Who taught third grade for seventeen years.
Who poured love and light to her students just like my son’s bride.
The other day my son called.
“I miss Lola,” he said.
“I will miss her being at my wedding.
Mom, will you carry a lantern down the aisle
A reminder that Lola is with us?”
I chose a small wooden lantern yesterday.
One with silver filigree at the top.
The filigree design reminded me of the silver rosary I bought for her on a visit to the Vatican
where I lit a candle at the altar in honor of her.
Her name means light, Luz Divina, Ludivina.
And I will light a candle in this lantern in memory of her
Moments before I walk down the aisle on the arm of my son
Who will hold me on his arm the way he did his grandmother
when he cared for her for many years.
He will stand at my side the way he did for her, the way he will for eternity stand by the side of his bride, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health.
He knows what that means, in sickness and in health.
He stood by Lola’s side for many years.
My mother was at his side moments after he was born.
She was at his side for swim meets and graduation.
He was at her side for years, cooking with her,
playing Chinese checkers with her
eventually caring for her
helping her up when she could stand no longer
when she could not remember his name.
He was there after her light was extinguished.
The light that continues to shine in the light of his eyes.
The light we will carry to the altar when he joins his life with one whose light shines like hers
Lola met her, his bride.
She held Lola’s hand at her bedside only months ago.
Lola smiled when she told her she was a teacher too.
“ l like her,” Lola whispered to me
“I do too,” I told her,
“She has a heart like yours..”
I am honored to publish two poems about my mother in the December issue of the online publication, the Write Launch.
Please click on the link to view “Gather at Colvos Passage” and “Legacy”