For some it is a long wait.
Some find help.
Some find their way there by chance or mistake.
Sometimes it arrives late.
Some - like my own mum - remain beautiful all their days.
Some are lucky time and again, in blessed health.
Which is sometimes - and inexplicably - cut cruelly short.
Some leave too soon.
Some climb mountains in pursuit of a better way.
A few - in trying - fail.
Some make us laugh.
Some write their song in the aftermath.Some find lost souls.
Some - believing they will never smile again - somehow find the strength to carry on.
Some find their voice.
Some are lucky to find what they have almost lost.
Some find they can help.
Some are yet to know the happy end they so deserve.
In some way we find we are the same.
We know utter love - which remains - for the rest of our days.
There is our triumph.
There is our Mothers Day... x
This week I am linking up with the wonderful Wednesday Words, Prose For Thought and the Weekend Blog Hop