Deb Sommers

This word means different things for most people.

For me, however, it means a hero.

Born and raised in sunny Georgia

where poppies roam and peaches grow.

Where hospitality and love are so common

everywhere feels like home.

So do you

Mother.

You then moved to Ohio

for whatever reason.

I guess I can’t complain.

I mean, they say “Home is where the heart is,”

and I find it fairly difficult to feel at home without you,

Mother.

You’ve touched so many hearts

and stroked so many souls.

It’s impossible not to feel warmth when you’re around,

Mother.

Ever since I was a little girl

you taught me to be brave,

to keep my head up and show no shame.

Though I must admit this has been difficult from the start.

You can’t exactly meld bravery from paper and glue,

but all I wanted was to be “Brave like you,”

Mother.

Yet here I am,

almost out of your nest.

My body’s almost done growing

but it’s easy to see my heart isn’t.

But you’re still trying;

everyday I learn a new lesson

and remain in awe as you keep inspiring me,

day after day,

Mother.

Someday I hope to make you very proud.

I want to change the world,

one word at a time.

I’m getting better, and I’m still trying,

but I’ll use these lessons you’ve given me

and put them to my best.

Whether that is feeding the poor,

or debunking the rich,

or show the weak-hearted that there is hope.

In whatever little ways we each decide to do that

well, no one really knows.

But we’ll keep fighting, trying

until someday, we reach our goal.

Utopia.

Hopefully we all strive for a beautiful utopia,

and I hope you’re around to see it,

Mother.