Barbara and my cousin, John, in happier days.
There are mothers and there are Mothers,
There are wives and there are Wives.
There are people who think of others
Every moment of their lives......
Barbara was hub of the household,
Around her the house revolved;
Through her every plan was formulated
And every problem solved.
She was an old-style mother,
The family was her all,
Her home was warm and welcoming
To all who came to call.
Yet she was no shrinking violet,
She was always out and about,
Doing her best for charity
And always helping out.
And friends, too, were important,
Even those back home in Wales,
And she loved to meet old colleagues
And swap old nursing tales.
Her cooking was phenomenal ;
How she loved baking tarts!
She was truly adept
At all the domestic arts.
Barbara's been in my life 'forever';
A friend and relative is no more
And it is hard to fathom
That she's walked through that final door.