Rising Up

Rising up to call her blessed ~ Is not enough it seems
For all that mother did for me ~ And all that mother means

I know I take for granted ~ My Mom on whom I call
For others only wonder ~ If their mother loved at all

Through all the difficulties ~ Through all the joy times too
My mother always loved me ~ Her dedication true

I was far from easy ~ Yet faithful she would be
To teaching, training, loving ~ And forgiving constantly

Myself as now a mother ~ I see things differently
I see the sacrifices made ~ And time spent on her knees

I didn’t often listen ~ But now I see things clear
So blessed I will call her ~ My mother oh so dear

Rising up to call her blessed ~ Is not enough it seems
For all that mother did for me ~ And all that mother means

Dianne Lombardo ©2008