Dorothy Cullen

Born of tough Russian stock

The youngest of three

Sisters them all

Mary, Rita and Dorothy

Growing up during depression

And World War II

San Francisco was the best place

To be safe as a Jew

Though her family was poor

They worked hard to provide

Mom would tell us of struggles

With a great sense of pride.

In the salon, papa toiled

The household was strict

as Mama labored in a laundry

Dorothy learned pretty quick

Papa passed at seventeen

Mama worked ever harder

Dorothy knew at this time

To be the good daughter

Dorothy worked part time

At the Emporium downtown

To pay for her skates

To the ice rink she was bound

Dorothy left home

Although far not at all

To attend nurse’s training

At French Hospital

Soon she met daddy

In Reno they wed

Mom a slender peach

Dad, wavy hair on his head

You started your brood

A family of three

Steven and Kathy

And little old me.

You taught us to ice skate

a good home you did keep

We would sew and bake

In a home safe to sleep

You may think it a blessing

As mom was a nurse

Try to stay home from school…

Fooling her was a curse

I bet it was hard

Raising kids in the sixties

When Steve had you grow pot

Like those God Damned hippies

You knew what was up

We couldn’t fool you

I guess it’s about time

We paid you your due

Kathy crept up behind you

To find eyes in back of your head

I always wondered

Why no glasses there, instead

Some of our friends feared you

You cut us no slack

Many more revered you

As I see looking back

We paid for the rules

We foolishly breached

We were encouraged and cheered

for the milestones we reach

You laughed and cried

And loved and lost

Right up to the end

You were the boss

Daughter, wife,

mother, friend

Grandma, Great Grandma

We’ve come to your end

You’ve missed daddy for years

You’ve felt so alone

Go visit Papa and Mama

It’s time to go home

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