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Rett

Jul 31, 2008 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

My Mothers House

My Mothers House

Standing alone in mother's house
Wondering what I could do,
Memories flooding my brain
Shaking me through and through.

Working from light 'til dark
Making sure we were fed.
Her face in the evening light
Tucking us into bed.

Standing in mother's house
Knowing she'll not return.
Sorrow heavy within my heart
Eyes starting to burn.

Winters were cold and summers hot
She was fast with a switch!
We could be brats, but when we hurt,
Her hugs came as quick!

Alone in my mother's house
Staring at tear filled hands.
Did she hear me say I love her
That I'm her biggest fan?

There'll be no more stories
The ones we loved to hear.
No more new memories
Of the mother we held dear.

Alone in my mother's house
Wondering how I got there.
How poor we will all be
Without her voice gracing the air.

Sitting alone in mother's house
Wondering how I'll stand the pain.
Outside the sky is weeping
The sound of gentle rain.

Rett Wiginton
R.I.P. Emma Dell Jurica (May 30, 1918-July 16, 1997)

— Rett, Jul 31, 2008

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Southern Texas, USA

Favorite Poets: Dickenson, Longfellow

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Critiques

D

17 years 10 months ago

This is beautiful and brings

This is beautiful and brings tears to my eyes. :(

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you Darya

I truly appreciate it. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

D

DarkinAZ

17 years 10 months ago

Great tribute...

to a Great Mother, whom I am sure is responsible for the Greatness of her son. Sincerely, Mark

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you sir

She always did her best for us. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

aww Rett....

Such a beautiful poem. I can say no more, as this has left me speechless. ~Jess ---------------------------------------------------- "Maybe in your vision, you've seen how omniscient is slightly less than divine. Cut the telephone lines, and the story's the same." - Ripplin' Waters (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band)

17 years 10 months ago

Thanks Jess

Not much I can say. This time of year I miss her greatly. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

D

17 years 10 months ago

loosing a mother is a sorrow

loosing a mother is a sorrow that remians fresh forever I , however, cope with it differently, I try to not think of her at all , not write about her at all , I try not to look at her pictures . I try to keep her in forever gone memorries of the back shelf of my mind..... but still , I swear to God ..........still there is not a single day......absolutely not a single day that I wake up and not feel her presence for a moment.......but then I burry here for the next 24 hours. I hope there is another world after this heartbreaking,sorrowfull and harsh one........ where we can be reunited with are loved ones.

17 years 10 months ago

I know exactly

what you mean Darya. Thank you. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

Mother

This made me tearful. You did a beautiful job, and I know she loves it, and her baby boy who wrote it.

17 years 10 months ago

Linda

Hmmm, I didn't know I had mentioned I was the baby, but I thank you. She was a woman with only 2 day school education, but she always did her best for us. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

Rett

A child is always their mothers baby no matter what the order of birth

17 years 10 months ago

So true so very true

but yes I was the baby boy and just like I am with my kids, I was her baby until the day she died. She knew she was going to die and had mmade the choice to die at her home with what dignity she could instead of a cold unfeeling hospital room. My brothers and I suported her decision and was with her to her very last breath. I wrote that poem in the final days and she would have me or my brothers read it to her several times a day. It is VERY special to us in that way. We each have a copy of it. I read it to her once again when I visited her grave. Thank you so much for understanding. *S* Respectfully, Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

Mother

I commend you, and your brothers

17 years 10 months ago

My dying mother (stomach

My dying mother (stomach cancer) was the only sane member of my family, it seems. My father (who had bi-polar) had a breakdown after her funeral I had to probate him. My brother who had come in from Frisco to *help* was doing lines. My daughter was running away from home with a myriad of crisis (this being one); my husband and I were separated--he in his usual inability to *support*. But for a few moments after she died, we were *one* again in the love she had for all of us. Thick enough to cut with a knife, you could feel it in the air. I knew for sure we are nothing but love and all that stuff that gets in the way of love. Sometimes I don't know how I survived those days at all as her caregiver. Or perhaps that's what helped me to survive the other circumstances. Poetry is quite revealing and healing. ~A

17 years 10 months ago

Sometimes life is rough Anna

My dad was a part time preacher and a full time SOB. My mom divorced him when I was 11 and moved to Texas from Mississippi. When I started school her he was waiting one morning and snatched me and took me back. I ended up staying with him untill I was 13, then I left and hitched around a while. I stayed with mom once in a while, but never for long periods as I was afraid he would find me again. I probably lived and learned more about life between 13 and 20 than most people in a lifetime. If someone said I could live my life over if I would start at 13, I would decline. I wouldn't go through those years again for anything. In a round about way I can get a vague idea of where you are coming from on what you were saying. Thank you very much. Deepest Respects, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

PS

My mom died from cancer also. Started in her stomach and spread to her lymph nodes. Stupid docter treated her like she was a hypochondriac until it was too late. Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

Same thing happened with my

Same thing happened with my mother. Her *back pain* was summarily dismissed by her doctor (it happens to women in one way or another). Her stomach was removed and she underwent chemo. The last survivor of 8 folks all having stomach cancer.. men and women of various races, ages etc. (she was the oldest at 73) Eventually it came back in her esophagus... the day I found out in the waiting room ... well I'll never write that into a poem. Suffice it to say that really was the end of my marriage... Who said "that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger"? Paraphrased. Only love truly heals. Because anything else will eventually kill us. ~Anna

17 years 10 months ago

That is

Probably the nicest thing you could do for someone, Rett. I think she's listening, and I think she heard. ~biscuit. (this was supposed to end up under your comment about reading your poem to your mother, but it got moved down some... blast...) ~Jess ---------------------------------------------------- "Maybe in your vision, you've seen how omniscient is slightly less than divine. Cut the telephone lines, and the story's the same." - Ripplin' Waters (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band)

17 years 10 months ago

Biscuit

It is not where it is at that counts, it is the sentiment behind it. Thank you so very much. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

Sinbadthesailorman

Sinbadthesailorman

17 years 10 months ago

This is a lovely tribute

I have only one small pick that sticks out for and maybe just me the second stanza or pharagraph I remember her working from light {to} dark I and maybe just I alone would use till or until the dark other then this {TO} nothing interupts my flow of this read lovely poem Donnie/Sinbad

D

DarkinAZ

17 years 10 months ago

'Til may work there...

My opinion. Sincerely, Mark

17 years 10 months ago

Donnie and Mark

Thank you. I see what you mean and I think 'til will work and will give it more sense. I appreciate it both of you. Thanks a lot. Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

My Mother's House

Rett, It's been 30 years since my mother passed and she sounds like a clone of your mother. Thank you for sharing ,this touched my heart~ What a gift that she was able to hear your words before she passed, what a blessing!

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you Janice

I appreciate it. We didn't always see eye to eye, but she always did what she thought was best. I and my brothers loved her very much. She was married 6 times before she found true love. Her last husband, George, who's named she carried to her grave, actually brought her great happiness and she mourned his passing till the day she died. Gratefully, Rett: "If I die, I'm never gonna speak to you again!" Emma Dell Jurica, my mother.

17 years 10 months ago

Beautiful poem

and a heartwarming tribute to a woman who must've been very special... because her son certainly is. Well done! I would suggest "her hugs (or her praise) came just as quick" instead of "her love"... the switch, too, was love.... was it not? Just a suggestion, that's comparable to me telling Tiger Woods how to putt! TOM

17 years 10 months ago

Thanks Tom

A man who can't take critique is deluding himself and a man who deludes himself is a fool. Good suggestion and has been implemented. I truly appreciate it. Yes, the switch too was love. It helped teach 3 hard headed boys right from wrong and also taught us there are consequences to doing something wrong. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

Your poem brought tears to

Your poem brought tears to my eyes and that familiar lump in my throat. My mom died in 1985. I don't think we ever really get over the death of our parents. However, imo, this is when we *grow* up. Bless you. ~Anna

17 years 10 months ago

Anna

Yes, that is when we truly grow up. We realize they are gone and it is totally up to us. The wound from the loss never completely heals, but over time it scabs over. That is about the best we can hope for. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

A

amalzamani

17 years 10 months ago

Very Touching

The first time I read it, it brought me tears! Trimming some lines will make the images stand more and it will flow smoother Example Standing alone in mother’s house Wondering what I could do Memories flooding my brain Shaking me through and through Working from light‘til dark Making sure we were fed Her face in evening light Tucking us in our bed Enjoyable one...thank you Rett

17 years 10 months ago

Amalzamani

Thank you. I will make changes soon. I truly appreciate your wonderful feedback. Keep it coming my friend. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

R

17 years 10 months ago

Hi Rett

I'm typing through clouded eyes, Touching and very emotional, not having a mother to remember, or to re-count against makes this a very moving write, Be well and take care. Peter ~~~~~~~~~Creativity Is to think more efficiently~~~~~~~~~~

17 years 10 months ago

Hi Peter, everyone wears

Hi Peter, everyone wears *mother* a little differently, thank you. Thank you for this poem, you touched each of our lives. Always makes me think how we form bonds in our common ground of sorrow. I think we could use a group hug. (((((hug)))) ~A

17 years 10 months ago

Many may thanks

Peter. I had a good mother. She was by no means an Angel, but she did the best she knew. Glad to see you here again. I start to get a little worried when I don't see you posting or commenting in a few days. Are things well with you? Your friend, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

R

17 years 10 months ago

I was about to close the computer down

But had to return and say Take Anna/Rett be well, and have a great weekend, Peter ~~~~~~~~~Creativity Is to think more efficiently~~~~~~~~~~

17 years 10 months ago

Rett...

a warm wish for you and yours.. thank you for sharing this one with us here... My youngest daughter, I named her Emma.. she is six now... I love the name. very strong and durable. Richard

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you Richard

I like the name Emma as well. My mother's full maiden name was Emma Dell Elizabeth Guice. She hated Elizabeth and dropped using it totally as she grew older. The only way I knew yhe Elizabeth part was I went with her to get a copy of her birth certificate, not like the ones we have today as she was born at home and it was recorded by the old country doctor. I asked her about it and she said, she hated being called Lizzie when growing up so didn't want anything to do with it. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

P

poewriter58

17 years 10 months ago

RETT

fourth stanza third ;line=could, Simply beautiful Chrys

17 years 10 months ago

Hi Chrys, It amazes me

Hi Chrys, It amazes me sometimes I read something and catch *errors* and how other times I can read something half a dozen times and not see them. It's as though the brain is on autocorrection then. Or that's how it seems to me. A discriminating mind...is a good thing ;-) ~A

17 years 10 months ago

Pardon me for this

@$%*&*&%$#@@%&&^^$^$#$#@ I hate missing something that simple. *LOL* Thank you Chrys I honestly appreciate it. (hugs) Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

P

poewriter58

17 years 10 months ago

Rett

congrats on making spolight it was a tiny error easily missed Chrys

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you my friend

I appreciate the congrats and the awshoot. *G* Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

mmm a wonderful poem Rett

May I send it to someone in my family? Mark

17 years 10 months ago

mark

You may sir and thank you! Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

yay!

Congrats on spotlight, friend. And look at all the comments!!! Zowie! ~Jess ---------------------------------------------------- "Maybe in your vision, you've seen how omniscient is slightly less than divine. Cut the telephone lines, and the story's the same." - Ripplin' Waters (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band)

17 years 10 months ago

Zowie, pow and blam.

Holy comments Batman! Thank you very very much my friend. Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

17 years 10 months ago

A beautiful poem.

My mom died last May"07", of a stroke in the brain steam. She had had a stroke in the right brain the winter of "06". In spring of "07", she was told she had kidney failure. She did dialysis for a month, before the last stroke. She was in a coma for twelve days. It was hell. Ma was a very strong and active woman. All of this from hypertension, and diabetes. My dad died in "03" of lung cancer. He was a smoker for 20 years. Watching them both die was bad. I hoped to never see the like again. Alas my granddad, another very active 90 year old, has had a stroke, and may have cancer in the cerebellum. We found this out last night. I pray for grace and strength. Your poem was felt by me in a way that only those that have had it (the loss of parents)happen to them can feel it. Thank you for letting me cry. Dana

17 years 10 months ago

Dana

I am very sorry for your loss and the possible impending loss. This is one time that I can truly say "I understand and feel your pain". Thank you for taking the time to read and comment even if it awakened your pain once again. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

J

jona

17 years 10 months ago

your tribute

This was words from the heart and i would urge any budding musicians to try to match such lovely verses.bravo!

17 years 10 months ago

Jona

Thank you very much. I truly appreciate it. I actually write a lot of my poems as songs. I have one on my page titled "Heartaches and Lace" that was actually written to go with a waltz. *LOL* Yeah, I'm old. Thank you for reading. Respectfully, Rett: "On life; Ah such a wondrous thing, beauty and love to behold and experience! On death; I can wait to see..." Rett 2008.

R

Rolwright

17 years 10 months ago

F*ck You

Period

17 years 10 months ago

Hmmm.

Hmmm. (((((((Rolwright)))))) where I come from, fuck you is a good thing. Osho: Strange Consequences. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6D7rWLzloOI Though somehow, I'm not sure if your message or my youtube is *appropriate* in this thread. After all, it's about Mothers and children and loss. Would you care to share? ~Anna

17 years 10 months ago

123

********123

P

prayersbyPatty

17 years 10 months ago

Rett

This is where the feelings come out thank you for sharing this poem that you wrote for your mother with your Neo poet family. It brought many feelings to the surface. Thats where the healing is. My mother was loved and gave love to us. I was the baby. She was tough, but also quick to defend or hug us. That feeling of knowing I could always call her is gone. But my great memories remain. I was loved. She walked 5 miles to work (no car) and it was a 24 hour job to keep us fed and warm. I knew the sacrifices she made out of love. My best memory is of a rainy day and she was in the kitchen making cookies what a warm feeling. Patty

17 years 10 months ago

Thank you Patty

My feeling are that a person never truly dies as long as they are held in anothers memory. I, like you, try to cherish and keep those memories. As long as you have them they are with us in our heart. Respectfully, Rett: "Life is like a beach. Salty, gritty, somewhat fishy and at other times, downright crabby!" Rett 2008.