~ ~ ~ ~
I remember the day my mom died.
My brother called,
a choke in his voice,
and he said,
“Our mother is gone.”
The world had stopped and was silent,
and it started again with a bittersweet joy
because Mom was no longer caught in the nether-land
of dementia
but she was gone from us.
I couldn’t speak for a moment
and neither could he.
Our mom,
our dear sweet mom,
was gone.
There was nothing more to say.
Our mother was gone.
I miss her.
~ ~ ~ ~
I love you, Mom.
