Box of lace

The house is sold, it’s almost moving day,
I’m Cleaning out things from yesterday
Mom’s in the closet with her old hope chest
She finds the box with her wedding dress
Worn just once and then packed away
Safely sealed behind celophane
While love and marriage grew and changed
The wedding dress remained

There’s a handful of heart
A heart full of faith
A flicker of hope
And a moment of grace
There’s a gentle word
A warm embrace
And buckets of love
In this box of lace

It’s Saturday and the TV’s on
With old home movies from when I was young
I look now like my mother did then
She was so young with two children
And my dad in his overalls
With uncombed hair and a basketball
My big brother is three feet tall
Were we ever so small

There’s a handful of heart
A heart full of faith
A flicker of hope
And a moment of grace
There’s a gentle word
A warm embrace
And buckets of love
In this box of lace

Mom understood more than I ever knew
In thirty years she’s done some changing, too
On that afternoon I heard her say
A marriage isn’t a wedding day
And a wedding dress isn’t who you are
You sell it now and buy a guitar
Live your dreams and I know you’ll go far
My daughter, my star

It’s been five years since that day
Today I’m moving into my own place
All my records fill up my car
My coffeemaker and my new guitar
And an old white box fraying at the seams
Containing silk and lace and dreams
A winning ticket I cannot redeem
It holds my mother’s faith in me

There’s a handful of heart
A heart full of faith
A flicker of hope
And a moment of grace
There’s a gentle word
A warm embrace
And buckets of love
In this box of lace

by Chris Kokesh © December 2002