Drawers Full of Love

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

In the closet, your clothes still hang,
And the scent of you is found there;
And it wafts around us, soft and sweet,
But we know that you're no longer here.

As we follow your last requests
And start to go through everything,
We find ourselves looking at drawers of love,
And, oh, what bittersweet memories they bring.

Here are tiny, folded knitted blankets,
Made by you with such love and care,
For each of your precious grandchildren,
And booties, too, for them to wear.

And cross-stitch pictures, tidy and neat;
For those of us you loved so much;
The thought and feeling in each so strong,
We can almost feel your touch.

Then we come to the drawer of your memories,
And it's now that we truly realize
How you cherished each little gift we gave;
The proof is here before our eyes.

Here are our little handprints
On paper, now faded and very old;
And every card and letter we ever sent
Is hoarded here like precious gold.

All of our school report cards,
Each handmade flower and valentine;
The short stories and childish poems;
You must have kissed each and every line.

And the truth swells heavy round us
Of just how deep and unselfish was your love,
And just how much we truly lost
When God took you to your home above.

And, Mom, sometimes we took you for granted,
Never knew how much we relied on you;
But you were the rock we all leaned on;
Your faith in us is what got us through.

And so now we will take a little piece
Of the priceless treasure you left us here,
Take these memories from your drawers of love,
And they will keep you forever near.