Memories of May, from Donald Lowe's brother
Posted: Mon May 10, 2010 1:19 am(This is dedicated to my Mom for Mother's Day and her genuine and sincere love,
my brother Donald E Lowe, KIA in Vietnam 5 May 1968,
and my dad who died when I was 13 and Don was only 12, on 11 May 1959)
May Memories
My thoughts go back to May and the year of sixty eight.
Mom waited for Mother’s Day and her turn to celebrate.
Like most moms, she foresaw being honored on that date.
Three grown sons would always make this her special day.
But this year was different; two were stationed far away.
One was in a place called Vietnam, serving for the U.S.A.
Little did she know that month as she received a knock,
from those two soldiers who pulled up to our front walk,
that her youngest would never be returning to the flock.
The end of that May, I knew in a more sympathetic way,
the absolute meaning of why we celebrate Memorial Day.
That year mom gave up more than she should have to pay.
Times were hard on her, but I never heard her ask why.
“God, why’d you take my son, and why’d you let him die?”
She knew God also gave His son; still she would daily cry.
Today she’s in Heaven where there’s only peace, not war.
And when she arrived, she was greeted at the open door
by a husband and a son who had gone there years before.
This May, as each one before, I’ve a brother to think of;
a dad who in May fifty nine went to his new home above,
and memories of a mother's genuine and non-ending love.
Bill Lowe, Sterling Alaska
my brother Donald E Lowe, KIA in Vietnam 5 May 1968,
and my dad who died when I was 13 and Don was only 12, on 11 May 1959)
May Memories
My thoughts go back to May and the year of sixty eight.
Mom waited for Mother’s Day and her turn to celebrate.
Like most moms, she foresaw being honored on that date.
Three grown sons would always make this her special day.
But this year was different; two were stationed far away.
One was in a place called Vietnam, serving for the U.S.A.
Little did she know that month as she received a knock,
from those two soldiers who pulled up to our front walk,
that her youngest would never be returning to the flock.
The end of that May, I knew in a more sympathetic way,
the absolute meaning of why we celebrate Memorial Day.
That year mom gave up more than she should have to pay.
Times were hard on her, but I never heard her ask why.
“God, why’d you take my son, and why’d you let him die?”
She knew God also gave His son; still she would daily cry.
Today she’s in Heaven where there’s only peace, not war.
And when she arrived, she was greeted at the open door
by a husband and a son who had gone there years before.
This May, as each one before, I’ve a brother to think of;
a dad who in May fifty nine went to his new home above,
and memories of a mother's genuine and non-ending love.
Bill Lowe, Sterling Alaska