My Grandmothers

This is a picture of my Grandma Wall with her five boys, My Dad was number 3. After the five boys she had two girls who are not in the picture. After having five children of my own I have new respect for her. It is only when we become a mother that we begin to apreciate our own mothers. My grandma wall has left behind a great legacy in our family. She is an amazing humble woman of Grace and Beauty and is also full of love. She is the one who always, always eats last at a family meal and the first with a compliment. I am the oldest of 40 grandchildren on her side. I am sure she always made sure we were all taken care of before she met her own needs. I look up to her in Awe and admeration.








This is My Grandma Archiblad at my wedding, Her Beautiful Smile reminds me of how much she loves me. Grandma's house was my home away from home. Like an extra refuge. I spent so much time at her home growing up, finding ways to tell my mom that I wanted to stay longer. I lived with her during college and it seems I could just never get enough of her. She was there to be perspective when I needed an extra five bucks in my pocket or a listening ear.

I Love you grandmas


POEM ABOUT MOTHERS
To the world, she isn't important,
Just a woman, one more racing time,
I know that she'll never be famous,
But to me she is more than sublime.

She's not quite a queen in a castle,
Her children aren't princess or kings,
But the love in her, dearly ringing,
Makes royalty, just simple things.

She is kind, she is loving and gentle,
though she works hard and steady all day,
but she's humble so humble and peaceful,
when in prayer at the end of the day.

She's a woman with dreams and with wishes,
though her family means so much more,
and the room to her love is always open,
and her friendship, has never closed doors.

She's a comfort in health and in sickness,
when day's darkened she brings out the sun.
She is happy and peaceful and gentle,
but she's free and she's lucky and fun.

No she's not quite a queen in a castle,
and her children aren't princes or kings,
but the love in her heart is still ringing.
She's my mother, for her my love sings.

by Douglas L. Phillips