Massey, Anita

ajc.com

In Loving Memory of

Anita (Chicky) Massey

Your Loving Son Michael

"Your Mother is always with you. She's the whisper

of the leaves as you walk down the street. She's

the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers

you pick, the fragrance of life itself. She's the cool

hand on your brow when you're not feeling well.

She's your breath in the air on a cold winter's day.

She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep,

the colors of a rainbow; she is Christmas morning.

Your mother lives inside your laughter. She's the

place you came from, your first home, and she's

the map you follow with every step you take.

She's your first love, your first friend, even your first

enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you

not time, not space...not even death.

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