After we immigrated I used to be apprehensive
To call to Holland as it was very expensive

So of the letters I received during the week
I had another peek

On Sunday morning while having coffee and cake
While trying not to feel a heartache

Family was always far away
So I wrote a lot of letters to share our day to day

For my parents 40th anniversary I send a recorder
And sharing spoken tapes became a regular order

Then after my father died my mother felt alone
And on Sunday morning reached for the phone

It became a regular routine
From witch we never did wean

Then after she passed
It was my sister who asked

To keep up the routine
So for years again I was seen

Sipping coffee on Sunday morning while on the phone
Helping my sister cope with her illness and not feel alone

She shed many tears
While sharing her deteriorating Parkinson’s symptoms for 20 years

The time came she could no longer speak
But I did not want her to miss the calls every week

She would smile when she heard the ring
Wanting to hear the news I would bring

Her husband Piet would relate the news
and it helped chasing away her blues

After her husband passed away
The nursing staff told me she always knew when it was Sunday

In her room she would sit alone
While staring at the phone

Her eyes would lit up when I called
Smiling as she was enthralled

While the nurse related my story
And she listened with glory

My last call to her was on Skype
And I saw the nurse wipe

Tears from her face while I said good bye
and she was able to see me cry

It was my last siblings connection
An end to my generations family affection

I now have a computer, blackberry, Skype and face time
And even if willing to spend my last dime

My departed loved one’s for now are beyond reach
While having coffee on Sunday morning in Long Beach