Our Loving Mother Sandra Karen Keith June 24, 1939 – January 5, 2026
Your mother is always with you
She’s the whisper of the leaves
as you walk down the street,
She’s the smell of certain foods
you remember,
flowers you pick,
the fragrance of life itself.
She’s the cool hand on your brow
when you are not feeling well,
She’s your breath in the air
on a cold winter’s day.
She is the sound of the rain
that lulls you to sleep,
the colors of the rainbow,
she is Christmas morning.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She’s the place you came from,
your first home,
and she’s the map you follow
with every step you take.
She’s your first love, your first friend,
even your first enemy,
but nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, not space…not even death.
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