Ode to an Angel Mother

I'm sure you are familiar with Abraham Lincoln's quote, "All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother. This is a small ode to my angel mother.

My Angel Mother
Valerie Owens

She comes home;
shoes stained red with dust
from an idle hike
through desert twilight
and into the night.
Hair, windblown and eyes, bright.
Mother is waiting up
Innocent mistake though it be,
the clock is pushing two
and curfew is long since past.
A penitent daughter awaits a sharp rebuke
from motherly lips.
Yet, Mother, quiet and understanding,
asks instead
if she had a good time
and how was the hike.
Casual chatter
and
no mention of late hours.
With a tender kiss upon the cheek,
mother, daughter say good-night.
A small surge of love
rises softly in the daughter's young heart.

She thinks now
of patient hours Mother played Nurse
in the days after surgery.
And
of clean piles of laundry at the edge of an unmade bed
and seven reminders
to put those clothes away!
She considers the unexpected acts,

like
the scent of pie dough
baked into cinnamon sugar rolls,
a loving reminder
that Mom remembered

what her daughter loves best.

An impromptu hot dog dinner

for a dozen teenage friends,

a quilt to warm a dorm room,

and a kiss every night,

these are the beautiful things of the world

to a young daughter.
She can almost hear
the lullabies of childhood,
and songs spilling forth from the piano,
and singing in the kitchen,
Mother's music,
the soundtrack of home.

Eyes, heavy with weariness,
close softly
and sleep comes
deep
and satisfying.

It is good to be loved.

What is it about mothers that makes them so wonderful?