In the backyard blowing dandilions and make’n wishes,
I can hear my mom inside doing after dinner dishes,
on a warm summer night in nineteen sixty three,
my life consists of just my mom and dad and me.
Back then, no one in my life I really loved had ever died
I don’t even think I understood the meaning of goodbye.
That was more than ten thousand warm summer nights ago,
seems like we all have to learn things we didn’t want to know.
Like all summer nights aren’t just warm and breezy
and saying good bye has never been easy
It’s hard to believe that everyone I loved back then has died
and it hurts like hell when you begin to understand the meaning of goodbye.
My mom died today, well two years ago today. And it sucks more and more everyday. I still catch myself regularly starting to call her to tell her something. I know she is in heaven. I know she is so happy. Her body is new and she gets to be with Jesus. Who she’s loved since she was a little girl. But I wish that He could give me a dream or a sign, or one last conversation with her. I sometimes just want to go back to that summer night in 1963 blowing wishes while my mom was still inside doing the dishes. I guess it’s okay. For her at least, I bet there are no dishes to do in heaven.