How can I say this, in so many ways,
how you are my light, my life and my grace.
For so many years, and so many miles,
held together by your gentle smiles.
And wether near or far away,
my thoughts would always go your way.
In good times and not, we’ve shared this life,
we’ve shared the feasts and the strife.
I remember though, when far away,
while on the road for yet another day.
How your thoughts of me would see me fit,
for all those unexpected trips.
And through the years my uniforms got snug,
as I tried to button, stretch and tug,
you always said “I was still the one”
you’d roster me, with all your love.
I do remember trying you some,
with a game in a down pour and little sun.
The game went on, in the dugout you sat,
with the other wives, soaked front to back.
And it wouldn’t have been so bad they say,
but… that game was played on Mother’s Day!
My picture still sits, incased in a frame and all,
in my uniform with a glove and ball.
Much younger then, with a bit of a tan,
and few less pounds then now I am.
But that smile still remains, even to this day,
it’s because of you that I must say,
of all those that have gone beyond,
who’s fortunes were made in gold and bronze.
I chose to remain at this post in life,
and always had the support of my loving wife.
Now, in my autumn years,
neither games nor crowds do I wish to hear,
but your gently voice, and the warmth of your smile,
is all I need, for my final mile.