My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it told.
But I can hear her crying, when all others are in bed.
I watch her lie awake at night, and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her, to help her understand.
But like the sands upon the beach, that never wash away.....
I watch over my surviving Mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others....
a smile of disguise
But through heavens open door, I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My Mom tries to cope with my death, to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her, knows its her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving Mom, through heavens' open door
I try to tell her angels protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her, or ease the burden she bears
So if you get a chance, talk to her...
And show her that you care.
For no matter what she says,
No matter what she feels
My surviving Mom has a broken heart,
That time won't ever heal.