80: a poem for my mother.

Eighty years of grace —

and still, your light has not dimmed.

If anything, it shines brighter,

like morning dew on petals

that refuse to wither.

You are Mavis,

but to those who knew you when dreams were just beginning,

you are Blossom —

the girl who grew strong and steadfast,

even when the winds of life tried to bend her.

And oh, how beautifully you have bloomed.

When the world changed in the 1970s,

you packed your courage and came to America —

not with riches, but with faith,

not with certainty, but with vision.

You worked, you prayed, you sacrificed —

turning struggle into stability,

and hardship into a heritage of hope.

You are the Proverbs 31 woman —

“She is clothed with strength and dignity;

she can laugh at the days to come.”

You have laughed, even through tears,

because you knew God would make a way.

You have stood tall,

even when the ground beneath you trembled.

They say in Jamaica,

“One, one cocoa full basket” —

and you’ve gathered every blessing, one by one:

faith, family, favor, and the fierce love

that has filled our lives to overflowing.

Eight children —

one son and seven daughters —

each one carrying a piece of you.

Each sister, a reflection of your strength and grace:

your wisdom in one,

your tenderness in another,

your fire, your faith, your laughter, your style —

woven through all of us.

We are your living petals —

proof that Blossom still blooms.

And your nineteen grandchildren —

they are your future in motion,

your prayers walking,

your love multiplied.

Your legacy lives in every smile,

every good deed,

every prayer whispered in your name.

Maya Angelou once said,

“I come as one, but I stand as ten thousand.”

Mama, that’s you.

You came with one suitcase and one dream,

but now you stand surrounded

by generations who rise because you did not fall.

So today, we honor you —

the matriarch, the nurturer, the prayer warrior.

We honor the woman who turned a foreign land into home,

who believed when it was hard,

and gave even when it cost her something.

May the Lord continue to bless and keep you,

may your strength never fade,

and may your days be filled with joy.

For you are more than our mother —

you are our teacher, our intercessor, our example.

And through us —

your children, your grandchildren,

and every life you’ve touched —

your light will never go out.

We love you, Blossom.

We thank God for you.

And we celebrate the woman

whose life reminds us that faith, love, and resilience

can turn any soil into holy ground.

Closing Prayer of Blessing

Heavenly Father,

we thank You for this precious life —

for eighty years of grace, wisdom, and steadfast love.

We thank You for the hands that have served,

the heart that has given,

and the faith that has carried her through every season.

Lord, crown her days with peace.

Let her latter years be filled with laughter,

gentle mornings, and sweet reminders

of how deeply she is loved.

May her body continue to be strong,

her mind clear,

and her spirit forever anchored in You.

Bless her children and grandchildren

to walk in her example —

to live boldly, give freely, and love faithfully.

And when she looks around this room,

may she see not just faces,

but the living harvest of every prayer she’s ever prayed.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.