I Would Just Sit With You

Written by Keith O'Brien on January 19, 2012

Mary Lou O'Brien

I think I would just sit with you, Mom, not needing to do anything or be anywhere.

I think I would, at least for one of my five minutes, just hold your hands and stare into your eyes.

So I would make absolutely certain that I would remember that look only you could give me…forever.

If I had just five more minutes…

I would take the next one to thank you for everything,

For all the times you made my lunch, my dinner, my bed, and my day.

For encouraging me when I needed it, for scolding me when I deserved it.

If I had just five more minutes…

I would take the next one to say I am sorry.

For putting you through hell when I was a teenager.

For all the nights I kept you worrying, praying, and hoping that I was safe.

If I had just five more minutes…

I would take the next one to tell you all about your grandchildren.

These are three young souls that you would have really loved.

And even though you never met, they will forever know you because they know us.

If I had just five more minutes…

I would take my last one to let you know that Dad is okay.

It wasn’t easy for him but he has come through as you knew he would.

With a smile on his face, a glass of wine in his hand, and love in his heart.

My time is up but I know I can find you whenever I choose.

You are right there when I need you.

I can feel you always.

There is rarely a day that I don’t think of you, miss you, or want to tell you something.

When something cool happens, I still pick up the phone to call you.

What I wouldn’t give for just five more minutes.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

I love you.

Note: I found this beautifully written tribute on Keith O’Brien’s Web site, and he most graciously allowed me to repost it on Five More Minutes With.

Here are other ways to contact Keith. . .who told me in subsequent e-mail correspondence that, “I’ve been buying and writing out Mother’s Day cards every year since she died, and this year I just decided to make it more public.”

Lucky for us!




More stories from: Featured Story,With My Mom

A Southern Gentleman and Woman

Written by Renie on December 15, 2011

The young Fergusons

James Thomas Ferguson, my Daddy, passed away in 1996 at 96 1/2 years old. (Only people six and under and those over 90 used the ‘1/2’.) Born in Shreveport, Louisiana, he was a southern gentleman all his life. Ran a cotton business, buying from the farmer and selling to the people or the factories who made the cotton merchandise.

He married my American beauty California Mom, Lorene Denton, in 1935 while on a trip to Santa Diego and Santa Barbara to consider retiring. Fell in love, married, and had to go back to work at Ferguson Cotton Comapany in Shreveport.

Sixty-one years later on July 24th, we held to his southern actions and attitude in our tributes at the graveside funeral service. Had a confederate flag draped on the casket, and a three-piece jazz band play “The Star-Spangled Banner,” “When the Saints Come Marching In,” “Dixie,” and other beloved New Orleans music.

It was a fabulous, appropriate celebration of life. We danced under the small white tent on artificial grass on July 24, a very, very hot mid-summer day, smiling and glowing with perspiration.

The “vintage” Fergusons

Ten years later, we did this again, also in July, for my Mom, without the Confederate flag, but with the same music. She was 97. The only difference was that there were fewer people, and an older generation of grandchildren. We did dance…….and I think I saw her looking down through the holes in the floor of heaven with her eyes twinkling and a big ‘ole smile on her face.

With affection,

Renie Ferguson Steves

Last Words with My Mother, Father, and Granny

Written by Deb Bailey on April 20, 2011

To my mother: I would tell her I forgive her for all the meanness she inflicted upon me in my life.

And that she is a great-grandmother now. LOL– she would have a fit.

To my beloved father: I would say I am going to miss you every day of my life.

My dreams are with you because my heart aches for you daily.

I try and live from your teachings and strive daily to be a good example to my children and grand-baby as you were to me.

I miss you and love you dad…

To my Granny: I miss you very much, and I know you are with me every day.

I feel your prescence and know you watch over me.

I miss you and love you.

Note: Deb Bailey is CEO of Power Women Magazine & Radio Show.