In Memoriam - Edna Stewart Mitchell

It was one year ago today—one year since I lost my support, advisor, comrade in trouble, sounding board, confidence builder, luck, best friend and confidante—my mom, Edna Stewart Mitchell.

Loved with a love beyond all telling.
Missed with a grief beyond all tears.



Her favorite poem:

"Trees"

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

—Alfred Joyce Kilmer