Quentin's Tribute to Marj
Marj & Willard --> here
MARJ ROE: HER LEGACY WAS LOVE
JUNE 23 2011
Number five and I’m alive in nineteen fifty eight
Marj and Willard found a second round of Summer procreate
I was fifth but soon was followed by little Marj and Mo
The 3 young kids were here; who knows where they will go!
The older kids were on the skids already bully brats
At least that was my memory until I’m wearing slacks.
The diapers I don’t remember, good times I guess for dults,
But then come sports and music; it’s all about results.
A poorly played piano, an out of tune trombone,
Some really bad rehearsals, my kids have got my tone!
But I will make them better, with lessons till they scream
And soon those things they think they hate will help fulfill a dream.
It’s all about no sympathy for wanting less than best
With total love, and a shove, she made us top the test
But this was by example for she would never fail
To lead with deed and passion, no hill to tall to scale.
The teachers went on strike, well Mom filled in the breach
In Sunday school she taught the rule with love beyond our reach
She car pooled us to everywhere, I can’t imagine now
She was a saint of sacrifice no service made her bow,
Except for those before our God, who had her most respect
She taught us all of Jesus, his love a gift we get.
For simple recognition and forgiveness of our sins
She taught that love of others was a means unto an end
The younger guy, the under guy was always her first charge
How could she make them better, how could she make them large?
In their own thoughts and learning of how the world goes round
Could she just make a difference one person newly found?
Her independent thinking, her will to make life better
Was in her constitution, was in her life-long letter
And when life threw a curveball and put her in that chair
No pity party for that girl she soldiered on with flair
She challenged us to let her live a life with attitude
Again she showed that character of strength and fortitude
For all her own and all she touched is how she will be known
A tapestry of leadership and family first she’s sewn.
This poem would be remiss without a simple end
Mom you gave me life and love, I miss you my dear friend.
