My mother sits and talks to my daughter
Thinking she’s me
Telling her stories of my childhood, the same ones
I have heard all my life, over and over.
She smiles delightedly at my cousin,
Thinking she’s my aunt (long since passed away)
And calls me Mama, before she recalls
That she’s also been gone a long time.

The details of identity blur, are lost, but
We are familiar, beloved, and we belong to her.
I tell my daughter - she remembers with her heart.

The moon hung low in the sky this morning
Early, earlier than I wanted to be up.
The bed was warm, daylight savings time had me discombobulated,
But it was time to get up, so I did.
The light through the window confused me,
It was bright enough to be a spotlight.
It was the moon, at its fullest round,
Brilliant and white in the dark, dark blue sky.
By the time I let the dog out and came back
It was almost down to the trees
Turned golden in the atmosphere
As the sky began to lighten.
It was worth getting up for.

Mom has started seeing things,
Not sure what’s real and not -
Now everything is real, altogether and at the same time.
Don’t let that man cough on my food, she commands
Indicating the tv announcer.
There’s some one in there, she confides,
Patting her pillow - She’s hiding in there.
Really? I smile and smack the pillow, thinking
To drive out demons.
Oh no, don’t - you’ll hurt her! Mom cries.

My sister makes my mother laugh.
I get overwhelmed, worn out, grim
Until my mother says, who is she?
She’s here all the time!

But my sister grins
And says outrageous things
And makes my mother laugh.

My sister sings to her,
Dances her across the room
As she struggles to the couch
Says, where do you want to be, mom?
The couch or the chair, where to you want to be?

My mother sags, leans - I want to be alive!

End quote

Sundays, too, my father got up early

My father gets up early too. Does all kinds of things.
The older I get, the more I recognize him
In the lines of this, one of my all time favorite poems.
Doing his best to care for his family.
Coping the best he can with the circumstances
that are beyond anything
He ever recognized, bargained for.
Children, wife, life -
All battered, changed, broken.
And still, my father gets up early. Makes
Breakfast for his wife, gets her up,
Makes her take her pills, eat, take more pills.
She’s starting to get cross, to resist. He fusses,
Worries over her.
He worries for his kids-
Offers what help he knows how to give.
This is beyond what he was prepared for,
This has never been his role in life,
Caretaker.
And he’s still holding on, still trying to
Take care of all of us. Hangs on to routine,
Every day the same again.

What did I know, what did I know
Of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Late

It’s time to go,
Get in the car and drive to
The recital.
This student has been in school
A long time, twice as long as average
He deserves his audience.
I drive - first through rain, then hail
Then snow - ridiculous weather -
I see traffic stopped ahead of me. A firetruck?
Yes, a firetruck with flashing lights, traffic backed up.
I stop in the middle of the road, turn into a driveway,
Go back to a side road and cut across to the next main road.
I still have time to get there.
I drive to the church - no one there, wasn’t he going to
Sing here? Nope, I will check at the school.
A parking place opens up as I drive up, perfect. I will be exactly on time.
I walk up to the recital hall, see the performers
outside the hall waiting to go in
Are you ready? I smile and ask.
Ready? For the last two arias, they reply.
Did you forget it’s Daylight Savings Time today?

March Snow

It snowed this morning.
Early March, big fat flakes
Filling the sky
Drifting straight down, silently.
The dog bounced out into the wet white yard
Returning with a big grin and snowflakes in his fur.