I said couldn't write this poem,
I wouldn't even try.
First Of all, these eulogies—
They always make me cry.
Specially when the loved ones
Are oh so dear to me,
As Punk and Doris Thomas
My adopted family.
Dear Doris, whom today we bid
A tearful last goodbye,
Was known and honored far and wide,
And loved by those nearby.
A faithful friend she always was,
So kind and true indeed.
I've often heard her make a call
To those in time of need.
She sacrificed without a thought
Though little time had she
She nursed her sister through the trials
Of chemo therapy.
Her brothers meant so much to her,
And sisters too, I'd say,
In fact she murmured near the end,
"Come, Nancy, let's go play."
Her mom and mom-in-law she nursed
For years when they were ill,
And yet she did her other jobs
And kept her humor still.
She was a loving mother
And a very faithful wife
Together Punk and she worked hard
Throughout their fruitful life.
Young Punk had come in army gear
To Teague's Drug Store on the square
His Sis had told him of a girl—
The prettiest anywhere.
Sweet Doris must have been
A knockout—that is clear.
And Punk—a gallant gentleman
To win her love so dear.
Perhaps she saw a future bright
And gave up drug store work.
This Thomas guy, she realized,
Was no average soda jerk!
At any rate, they raised a bunch
Of Thomas children swell
They lost young Jimmy far too soon,
But others fared real well.
Janie there was, and Randy next
And Rex, and Tony last,
And Doris gave them lessons strong
From present to the past.
She raised those little Thomas kids
In the hilltop house so small,
With bunk beds in the tiny rooms,
Stacked up against the wall.
She sponsored FHA at school,
On bus trips they would go,
She even taught the Spanish class,
Although she "no hablo!"
We loved the Christmas times we had
With Doris and the clan.
She supervised the whole she-bang
With careful thought and plan.
Like Chinese Christmas—it got squelched
After many happy years,
Because in trade Ky lost his knife
And screamed with angry tears.
Cool in crisis Doris was
No matter what the mess,
When she and great gran Riley failed
The golf cart safety test,
They tried to turn the cart around
But that did not work too well
They could not turn the cart enough,
And down the bank it fell!
They'd gone to see the pigs, you see,
And why not take the cart?
It was great fun for two to drive
But wasn't very smart!
She calmly told the toddler brave
To scale the red gulch wall
And summon any passerby
To pull them out and all.
She almost lost her cool one time,
A lizard was the cause,
It got away from Master Shawn,
Who chased it without pause.
Into the sewing room it went,
And underneath the bed,
"Damn lizard," shouted Shawn,
And DeeDee turned beet red.
"Shawn Thomas, watch your mouth,” she cried,
And slapped him with grim wrath,
But then on hands and knees she went,
To trace the lizard's path.
The lizard, not to be outdone,
Bit Doris to the bone,
And, truth be told, she almost loosed
Some cussing of her Own.
Five cancers she had had,
And bypass surgery.
She fought them bravely all away,
Survived them all did she.
But then on early Sunday morn,
Against the eastern sky,
Along the canyon rim she saw
Young Punk all spruced and spry.
He'd brought a wagon fixed up nice,
With flowers and spice and lace
To take the lovely drugstore girl
To a lovely, golden place.
And there together they will play,
On shiny tables new,
With dominoes Of finest pearl
Long games of 42.
Goodbye, Miss Doris, DeeDee dear,
Your fruitful life is past,
But thank you for your love and strength,
Please rest in peace at last.
