I found this poem online and it fit my Mother to a T. She always watched for me to come home from the front door of our home.
Poem reads She always leaned to watch for us, Anxious if we aere late In winter by the window, In summer by the gate
And though we mocked her tenderly, Who had had such foolish care? The long way home would seem more safe, Becaue she waited there. Her thoughts were all so full of us, She never could forget And so I think that where she is, She must be watching yet. Waiting till we come home to her, Anxious if we are late Watching from Heaven;s window, Leaning from Heaven's Gate.
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