Mother’s Day is hard every year.
I never know when to shed a tear.

Every year we visit her grave.
It brings back memories of her calling me “Big Dave.”

Each year is filled with crying, laughter, and memories.
We also decorate the grave with many accessories.

At the cemetery, my dad always gives a nice speech.
Telling us how proud mom would have been to see what we will reach.

I always tell jokes to lighten up the mood.
Sometimes my aunt even brings food.

Last year at the grave, we had a picnic.
I felt my mom eager to join it.

My grandpa showed up - as well - with a ginormous pot.
He hoped that the plant would protect this special spot.

It is a little spooky to think a body is in the ground.
But I’m sure it is peaceful with no one making a sound.

Each year, remembering is harder.
So going back to the grave is a bit of a mind-restarter.

Me and my family will continue this tradition.
And make sure - on her special day- she is given recognition.