Disclaimer – Not. Mine.Part of the "Book of Souls" series, a set of poem stories instigated by the incomparable gaggit and continued by other fine fan fiction writers. See the full series at The Dead Poet's Sisterhood
From the back cover: Voices from Mrs. Landingham’s past
Waiting for Understanding
By bluejeans
Simon Joseph Marsh (January 17, 1907- December 4, 1960)
Daughter, you are understanding.
Heaven knows you didn’t get it
From me.You must have picked it up
Along with that recipe.
For serenityIt comes from getting
Your own way.I never could
Say no to you.
You
Never gave me a reason.Because that strength in you
Holds the mighty
Weak.
Henry Thomas Landingham, (Sept. 3, 1927-Oct. 21, 1986.)
You were always so small.
Always so woman
Tough.
Gentle.You had a way
Of anticipating.
Your gift, my love.
And you always shared it.Still do, I’ve noticed.
It was always your way, though.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t
Let them wear
My old uniform.
I bled for my country
But you were the patriot.
And you gave it to them.I can’t blame you,
But I don’t have
Your understanding.
You’re understanding.You nursed broken bones
And broken dreams
Broken hearts.
Without breaking.And then you’d make cookies
With your strength
In the mix.
Andrew and Simon Landingham ( June 1, 1946 - Dec. 24, 1970)
We always do everything together.
Life, school, love,
DeathAndrewnsimon.
Or Simonandrew.
But never to you, mother.To us, you were just mom.
Just.You always had hot cookies
At home
You were always home.We asked girls to dances
You made us.
We hated it.
But we liked practicing with
You in the living room.You let us be boys
And trained us to be men.
How did you do that?You loved it when we got
Taller,
Our little mother.You hugged tightly when we left, and cried.
And you cried.
When we came home.But you understood.
We still don’t.
Since there are
Two of us
You’ve learned to see
A son’s
Repeated faces, even in strangers.Our gift to you
While we wait for
Understanding
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