Who she was

Her mind this prison.  She says my name and smiles.  Restless she yearns for all that she has lost in her physical world.  Her soul strong.  She fights.  She forgets my name still she smiles.  She longs for her brothers lost. Her world slipping from her.  A dark shadow across this vivid carousel of her past.  She goes around and around.  She asked about dad today.  His betrayal she forgives.  She wants what she knows.  What she remembers.  Familiarity brings her comfort.  The tragedy of her reality simply a chapter of this life she has lived.

Losing her home her belongings her husband.  Everything she knew.  Does she forget what she has lost?  On her good days we reminisce letting her tell the stories of when I was her baby girl.  I share pictures.  We sit sometimes in silence each drawing comfort and strength from each other’s presence.  Change for us both.  Discovering our boundaries forgiving our anger her confusion my impatience.  Deserving of so much more she wears every battle proudly.  Ugly scars emblazoned on such a gentle soul.

 

On her bad days she rages.  Angry with him and God.  I yield to her lashes.  Fear in what she cannot describe.  Cannot explain.  Humbled I weep for who I remember her to be wanting needing one person to anchor me.  Give me root.  It is not her.  She is everything familiar.  But inside she is no longer there.  I get so angry at her.  Reach I beg of her.  Think.  Remember.

I do take joy in her. I do miss her.  I will cherish every memory from a past glorious.  Look and see what cannot be taken from her.  Heart. Soul. Humility. Strength. Courage. This is for Mae.