If this were a movie, you would be pretty sure about now that tragedy was about to strike, because
THINGS ARE JUST SO GOOD!
Lexi brought me this poem tonight.
Sometimes I know the words to say,
Give thanks for all you've done,
But then they fly up and away
As quickly as they came.
How can I possibly thank you enough,
The one who makes me whole,
The one I owe many sorry's
For things I shouldn't have done.
The one who tucked me in at night,
Who used to stop me from crying
The one who was the expert
At making a day go flying.
The one who saw me walk to school
And spent many hours at home
Yet magically had a smile,
As soon as I came home.
The one who makes such sacrifices
To keep me always endured.
Who lets me have privledges
That I've always earned.
Who paints the world a rainbow,
When it's filled with horrid nightmares,
Who explains it all so clearly,
When nothing else matters.
Are there really any words for this?
I find this question tough...
Anything I want to say,
Just doesn't seem enough.
What way is there to thank you,
For your pounding heart and tears,
For ten thousand little things you've done,
For oh-so-many years.
For changing with me as I changed,
Accepting all my love.
Not loving 'cause I have to,
But loving, 'cause I do.
For never giving up on me,
When your wits had reached their end,
For always being proud of me,
For being my best friend.
And so I come to realize,
The only way to say,
The only "thank you" that's enough,
Is clear in just one way.
Look at me before you,
see what I've become,
Do you see yourself in me?
The job that you have done?
All your hopes and all your dreams,
The strength in us both,
A transfer over many years,
Your best was passed to me,
Thank you for the gifts you give,
For everything you do,
But thank you, Mommy, most of all
For loving me with all your heart.
W.O.W. See what I mean? "And in the next scene, Lexi gets eaten by a shark." or "...Cinnamon develops spleen cancer." or "there is massive earthquake and they are seperated on either side of the impassable New Grand Canyon." I just hope The Great Producer is not so predictable. Lexi's poetic Great-Grandma Lewis says that she would know if she'd written a good poem if she read it to Great-Grandpa Lewis
and it made him cry.
In my book at least, this certainly qualifies. Love you Lex.