Mum Hutt,

To Mum Hutt,
Must you throw this match away?
That served you well this very day?
Did it give you once a slight?
This that burned so very bright?
Is there no little good?
Still left upon this stick of wood? Burnt out & useless -so am I
Once born & lived but now I die
Dear Mum Hutt there is nought amiss
Always it is done like this
We have each a purpose, every one
We have our moment & then are gone
We love you dearly but a stroke
Has caused your blessed mind to choke
We love you as we always will
Until we ourselves are also still
But there is more than what we see
I remember what you taught to me
Wait for me in God’s great land
Where once again, you’ll take my hand

Mum Hutt,

chris51

Sunbury, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Mum Hutt was our name for my maternal Grandma
Once a troubled but strong & powerful matriarch , she was laid low by a family curse—a series of increasingly severe strokes with associated dementia.
She had led an amazing life as the daughter of major land holders in the Victorian High Country-all the holdings are gone now. One day as I was about to discard a match I had used to light the gas stove to boil her water for a cuppa, we had this exchange.
It was about 1958

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