She folded my coat by the door again
Left a note where the coffee stains begin
Said “Don’t rush—just be kind while you’re here”
I nodded fast but didn’t really hear
Years slipped like pages I never turned
Chasing echoes lessons unlearned
Then one night her voice in the rain
Whispered through walls of old regret and pain
Not loud not sharp—just steady and clear
Like laundry swaying on a line last year
Life means listen to Mom go love go make
Hold what’s fragile give more than you take
Stitch your days with quiet care
And walk—even when no one’s there
Now I tuck in my daughter hum that same tune
Trace the lines that her small hands drew
On the fridge in crayon bold and true:
“Mommy says love is what you do”
And suddenly I’m kneeling on the floor
Hearing words I ignored before
Life means listen to Mom go love go make
Hold what’s fragile give more than you take
Stitch your days with quiet care
And walk—even when no one’s there
No grand speech no final sign
Just her hand on mine still warm with time
The greatest truth she never wrote
Was lived in every loaf she baked each hope she spoke
Life means listen to Mom go love go make
Hold what’s fragile give more than you take
Stitch your days with quiet care
And walk—even when no one’s there
Go love…go make…move on…