Losing Her Slowly

By Clara Blair

We are losing our mother slowly.
She has become more needy than a child,
Frail beyond belief.

How can we comfort her when our words
Fade from her mind
While we are still speaking them?

Where does she go between
"Hello" and "Good-bye" -
Between "Good-bye" and "Hello"?

She wanders an internal maze
Confused and fearful,
Trusting no one, finding nothing.

Walls she'd built to keep out hurt
Have kept out hope -
She'd built them much too strong.

Great age has gnawed at her senses,
Consuming now her sense.
We visit, hold her hand, repeat.

Day by day the changes steal more of her.
Dinner? I just had my breakfast.
There are evil people here.

Always sober and sensible, now
She throws things, is rude, combative.
Misconstrues everything.

She worked hard, a motherless child
Watching over her siblings and growing up
Without a childhood.

She made a good home for her husband
And raised two sons to be nurturing family men,
Fine mates and fathers.

Her home was her world, beginning and end
Of her aspirations. But her children are aging,
And she has outlasted her man.

Now her world is frightening and insecure,
Still she clings to it - afraid of the dark
And of the light as well.

It is terrible to realize she will never
Be happy again. The die is cast, she fades
Slowly before our eyes.

Making gardens and quilts, green tomato relish,
Teaching her granddaughter how to sew,
Joys are forgotten.

All that's left is to keep her safe until she finds
Rest from her fears, peace at last, sleep
With no bad dreams.