William Ray Heaton

My Mom Is A Survivor
My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away
. . . I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others . . .
a smile of disguise!
But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven's open door . . .
I try to tell her that angels protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her . . .
or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her . . .
and show her that you care.
For no matter what she says . . .
no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal.

My dad is a survivor too which is no surprise to me.
He's always been like a lighthouse that helps you cross a stormy sea.
But, I walk with my dad each day to lift him when he's down.
I wipe the tears he hides from others; He cries when no one's around.
I watch him sit up late at night with my picture in his hand.
He cries as he tries to grieve alone, and wishes he could understand.
My dad is like a tower of strength.
He's the greatest of them all!
But, there are times when he needs to cry...
Please be there when he falls.
Hold his hand or pat his shoulder...
And tell him it's okay.
Be his strength when he's sad, Help him mourn in his own way.
Now, as I watch over my precious dad from the Heavens up above...
I'm so proud that he's a survivor...
And, I can still feel his love.