In it's pages, writings of triumphs and falls.. words uttered and phrases learned measured by growth not so much in inches but in love of a mother preoccupied in life and sibling's achievements shadowed by work that never ended until the day the last page was to be finished- authored with a quill plunged in a well of his mother's tears
I just remembered where the inspiration came from for this poem..
My father died at age 32 from lung cancer. A few years ago after the death of his father, my aunt gave me some of my dad's things. In them was a baby book started by my grandma. It told of all his acheivements.....on the last page it told of his death.