MOM’S SECOND OLD WHITE
I pulled it out today. Thought to make a mask for shopping.
I have carried it around with me all these years of house hopping.
Though its case is sorely battered, I have duct-taped it tightly.
It works really well. Needs a tune up, but just slightly.
It zig zags, and buttonholes, and sews a straight line.
It does all I need, and it does it quite fine.
But, of course, it set me thinking, as always and ever,
’bout the day I first saw it. I shall forget that never.
On April 17, Dad bought Mom a surprise
A present, something new, a sure fired prize.
See, Mom sewed our clothes on her faithful old White;
Made our wardrobes and hers, always just right.
Not a fancy machine, it got the job done,
But Dad picked out a new one for a little more fun.
It was shiny and sleek in a gorgeous console;
It worked ever so smoothly with its push button control.
It was delivered next day to my Mom’s shocked surprise.
The salesman had thought to see joy in her eyes
As he explained who he was, but she heartbrokenly cried.
The day that Dad bought it was the day that he died.
To know he had thought of her that very last day
must have burned through her soul. She never did say.
She sent back the console, but kept the machine.
Now fifty years later it is mine to keep clean.
rJo Herman 4/8/2020