Today is Mama's birthday. She's getting old and gray.
I wanted to be there with her, but I'm too far away.
I close my eyes and see her standing in a mist.
Oh, how I wish that I was home to wish her happiness.
Seventy years ago today was the day of my mama's birth.
And a better mama never lived on the face of God's green earth.
All the other kids are there with their hearts filled with glee.
And mama's happy too, in a way.
But I know she misses me.
And I know the time.
And I know that she'll miss me most.
And that's when they'll start to eat.
Because every place will be filled but one.
And that's the place that mama saved for me.
And as they bow their heads to offer thanks,
well, I can hear my mama pray.
Oh, Lord, why wasn't our other boy at home with us today?
And now, as I sit here,
so lonesome,
with my eyes filled with tears,
I think of all the worries and the heartaches and the sorrows
that I've caused mama through the years.
But before I go to bed tonight,
here's what I'll ask as I pray.
Dear God, please let me be home next year for mama's birthday.
Lord, I'm so sorry,
but I'm dealing with this as my only child.
And I just can't believe this at all.
Oh, mama my dear,
she's not here.
I'm here right now for you.
How did you know the world might change if I did?

She's not here when I tell you.


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