Olga Vera Stinich passed away March 14, 2005. No mother could ever have been more loved. Her life was one of laughter, love and a deep faith in God; but also one of tears, fear, sadness and frustration. It was not free from stress or anxiety, nor of disappointment, but it had certainly been a life well-lived. It had been all these things that made her who she was.
From this remarkable woman I learned kindness, gentleness, patience; I also learned of prayer and of God and faith, perseverance, hope and, ultimately, Truth. While the lessons were learned--through her living them--I know that, through my own weakness, I have failed miserably to put them into practice at moments in my own life. But I still try.
My mother remains the woman I most admire and respect, and to whom I most look up to. She is never far from thought, and I speak to her often, asking for her prayers and help. I think, if anyone were to describe me, in time to come, the words I would hold most dear would be "She is like her mother"; for it is to this, I aspire.
Poems for My Mother
Forever Remembered
I don't remember
Doing anything special
To deserve the love
Of my mother;
Yet it is always there,
Constant as she is
In showing she cares.
A day is not enough
To honor her,
Yet a simple card,
A mere token of
My love and gratitude
For the happiness
She has given
To so many over the years
Brings tears
To her bright blue eyes.
Dear lady!
“Stay with me”, my cry.
How do I return
The love you have given?
How do I ever hope
To become half the woman
You are?
Perhaps by sharing
The love and beauty and wisdom
The gentleness
Of your heart, passing it on.
It is only a start,
But in emulating you I know
You will always be with me.
Bright Eyes
(For My Mother)
Bright Eyes lives with style and grace
And a loving smile upon her face
With sadness veiled she grieves inside
One never knows that she has cried
Her heart has broken many times
Yet she remains the most sublime
Desiring only another’s delight
She remains a loving acolyte
In times of trouble, pain or need
Her help is wholly guaranteed
One need never fear to ask
For she’s up to any task
Bright Eyes’ love is evergreen
Will never exist unseen
Her purpose here is simple and clear:
To her God bring others near
(For My Mother)
Bright Eyes lives with style and grace
And a loving smile upon her face
With sadness veiled she grieves inside
One never knows that she has cried
Her heart has broken many times
Yet she remains the most sublime
Desiring only another’s delight
She remains a loving acolyte
In times of trouble, pain or need
Her help is wholly guaranteed
One need never fear to ask
For she’s up to any task
Bright Eyes’ love is evergreen
Will never exist unseen
Her purpose here is simple and clear:
To her God bring others near
Magic in My Mother’s Hands
There is magic in my mother’s hands
From whence flows her love
A mighty river whose course runs true
And one drop of that sacred water
Poured on painful wounds
Cleanses and leads me to my healing
Namaste
(Letter to My Mother)
It hurts, this missing you.
I had seen the sand slipping through
Your hourglass, but could do nothing
To slow--or stop it.
Then, how could I deny you the peace
Which you now surely possess?
Do you know that it is spring,
That the sun now burns
Hot in the April sky? I remember you
Could hardly wait for the season to change.
Soon daisies will dance, bowing in the warm breeze,
Awaiting their blessing from a cool morning's dew,
And dandelions will scatter their wispy
Transparent seedlings throughout the earth
Like stars breaking free from a constellation,
Tumbling down for our pure pleasure.
Lovely, how you always saw beauty--
Even in a weed, or the God-likeness in everyone.
How I long to share this beauty with you again,
And even that which is not so beautiful,
For it takes one to appreciate the other.
But until such time, I will remain content
To simply welcome your memory in the spirit
Of Namaste, for in no other has the light of God
Shone so brightly.
**************************
*Namaste (nah mah stae) is a Sanskrit word commonly used as a greeting in India
and in the practice of yoga. It can be translated in many ways. Literally,
it means, "Not me, you."
Briefly, it means, "The Divine in me honors the Divine in you."
The deeper meaning is often translated as:
"I honor the place in you in which the entire Universe dwells - a place
of peace and light and love. When you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are One."
Happy Mother's Day to all mothers.
Peace,
Monica
