Category Archives: Reflections

Poem: Slowly

“We are all dying,Slowly. Aren’t we?”A resident muses,Without existential rhetoric,From the next table over,In the dinning room of The Home. “Yes, all of us”We reply from ourPosition next to our mother,Who notes but does notRespond as she eatFrom her too-full … Continue reading

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Poem: Gratitude

When you have been the independent person,How do you learn to depend on others? You were the go-to person,The decider who could pull it together. You were the one to take others in, When they had life crises. You were the … Continue reading

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Poem: Solutions

Our impulse is to solveProblems in our culture.Name and define the problem,Apply a remedy. May this be our heritageOf the Enlightenment,Or the Industrial Revolution,The advances of science. We assume that all problemsCan be addressed with someSolution, which rights imbalancesAnd returns … Continue reading

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Poem: Release

Half way through the sing-a-long,My mother turns to look at me.Did she arouse from dozing offWhen “You Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog”Became a raucous senior-living wail? Or, is this not a familiar, happy memory,For one who rarely listened to … Continue reading

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Poem: The Curse

“I hate this place”My mother growls,The only full sentenceShe utters through aphasia. Of course, she meansThe Home, senior living,Ha, people waitingTo die, not live. Though inarticulate,She is aware,Of the wandering,Vacant staring of others. The stammering thoughtsAnd the circular questionsOf her … Continue reading

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Poem: The Home

The American dream of home and family,Is it just a dream? A dream punctuatedAnd punctured by the reality of the whimOf circumstances we do not control? How many generations were born and diedAt home because no alternatives exitedDuring their lives? … Continue reading

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Poem: The Hug

Every time I leave my mother’s home,She hugs me as if she will neverSee me again.  Maybe, we will not knowUntil our next meeting, or not. Her hugs are spontaneous, slow,Deliberate, and broad.She pauses, her motions, her armsSpread as a … Continue reading

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Poem: Ellipsis of Silence

As I cross the thresholdof my sixth decadeI offer to my mothera walk in her community. A neighborhoodof retireeson small, neat lotswith enough space For those whoenjoy a gardenbut not the burdenof the suburban home. A few blocks this waywith … Continue reading

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Poem: The Word

My mother’s eyes dim and her mind strugglesTo keep pace with books, letters, and picturesWhich used to engage her free time. She anticipated these changes years ago, Seeking suggestions for larger print, better light,Magnification, and audio-books. But, the complexity of modern … Continue reading

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Poem: My Martha, My Mary

Luke * (10:38-42) tells of Martha preparing forJesus and his companions, while her sisterMary sits and listens.  When caring for an agingMother, we can be both Martha and MaryServing and sitting at the table throughout the day. My Martha is … Continue reading

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