In a quiet hospital room, I read aloud from a book of poems written by my mother, sharing tender moments and knowing smiles. The reading brings full circle a lifelong bond, echoing my mother's own voice from childhood memories.

Pink Halo Peonies ~ Pandora’s Box Cover Art
Tonight I read to my Mother from her own book of published poems. As I read, I glanced at her from time to time in her hospital bed. She lay with her eyes bright and alert. As I finished each poem she had written, I would meet her eyes briefly and she would meet mine, with a bit of a smile shared between us.
As I read to her, it occurred to me, my reading voice has the same inflection my Mother’s voice had when she read to us as children. Because her hands can no longer grip properly, I held the book upright for her, showing her each poem and the painting I had chosen to go with it.
When I finished the last poem, the one she had written about her Father, I said to Mom, “The end.” She turned to me with a smile and said, “That was good.”
And it was. It was very good.
Gentle Thoughts
Drifting, drifting
back in time,
poignant memories
brush my mind.
When we were young
and life was sweet
I danced with you
in sandled feet.
You were so tall and I so low
I had to kiss you
on tiptoe.
My faithful friend
so strong, so true
I loved you but
you never knew.
Elsie Leighton Becker
.avif)
In a quiet hospital room, I read aloud from a book of poems written by my mother, sharing tender moments and knowing smiles. The reading brings full circle a lifelong bond, echoing my mother's own voice from childhood memories.

Pink Halo Peonies ~ Pandora’s Box Cover Art
Tonight I read to my Mother from her own book of published poems. As I read, I glanced at her from time to time in her hospital bed. She lay with her eyes bright and alert. As I finished each poem she had written, I would meet her eyes briefly and she would meet mine, with a bit of a smile shared between us.
As I read to her, it occurred to me, my reading voice has the same inflection my Mother’s voice had when she read to us as children. Because her hands can no longer grip properly, I held the book upright for her, showing her each poem and the painting I had chosen to go with it.
When I finished the last poem, the one she had written about her Father, I said to Mom, “The end.” She turned to me with a smile and said, “That was good.”
And it was. It was very good.
Gentle Thoughts
Drifting, drifting
back in time,
poignant memories
brush my mind.
When we were young
and life was sweet
I danced with you
in sandled feet.
You were so tall and I so low
I had to kiss you
on tiptoe.
My faithful friend
so strong, so true
I loved you but
you never knew.
Elsie Leighton Becker
.avif)
Nancy is a master signature artist and instructor with thousands of online students from around the world. She has worked with Disney, served on the art faculty of the Dallas Arboretum, and has taught workshops in France, Italy and across the US.