Mother’s Day

From Cpl. Carl A. Drain, stationed in New Guinea in 1944, to his mother, Mrs. Hugh S. Drain of Hemlock NY.

Rediscovered by Jody Treble Sidlauskas.

...

Seems how this is Mother’s day and I am not doing anything, I sat down and wrote this little poem. I guess it will get across to you what I am thinking.

I went to church this morning but you’d never know it was Mother’s day by the chaplain. He never mentioned mother or Mother’s day once. He’s not too good anyway, he reads his sermons.

Your loving son, Carl.

...

Although I may be miles away,

I think of you on this, your day.

The second Sunday in May of every year

Is set aside as your day, Mother dear.

I think of the trials and troubles we had,

Back in the days when I was just a lad.

Along with those troubles, there was also joy,

I guess I was just an ordinary boy.

From the time you held me on your knee,

My heart and mind have been on thee.

Up through the years I’ve steadily grown,

And still have you to call my own.

Today, I am a soldier boy,

It’s a world of grief, there is no joy.

But someday, somewhere this war will end.

And I’ll be right back home again.

Until the day when this comes true

My heart and soul is home with you.

Don’t worry, Mom, where’er I roam,

God is with me, I’m not alone.

And when I do come home once more

I’ll settle down to roam no more.

I’ll spend my life with all of you,

Especially Mom, the girl so true.

I never was a very good poet,

But I have one thought, and want you to know it,

Where’er I go or whate’er I do,

Dear Mom, I’m thinking always of you.