(New Zealand )
As we grew older, you let down your hair,
Leather jacket, bike helmet, the tattoos that you wear.
From brunette to blonde you would change your mind,
You would pull it off mum, you were one of a kind.
South Island behind you, up north you travelled,
3 grown up kids, we have all unravelled.
You picked up our pieces, as you always would,
No judgment, no pressure, did what you could.
We all moved home at one stage or another,
An open door policy, that was our mother.
With children in toe, we took over your place,
You never complained, but the look on your face.
Your grandchildren love you with all of their might
Your stories so rude, your bonds are so tight.
Crying with laughter, they would roll on the floor,
“Come on nana, tell us some more.
Gerard the strength, to hold us together,
In moments of weakness, he make us feel better.
Mandy her brown eyes, they are our mothers,
I will be venting to her, like no other.
Sean your art, so creative and true,
You are our mother, through and through.
For me your humour, and the wrinkles you see,
I’d like to say thank you, I am sarcastically pleased.
If only, what if, so many regrets on this day
Oh Bollocks and bollocky crap, is what you’d say.
You should be so proud of what you have created,
Gerard, Sean, Mandy and me your favourite.
You will be in our hearts, and forever on our minds,
The hurting will pass in all good time.
Strong till the end, you held your own,
Now with your mum....
You have gone home...