Of the Loss to Come

I’ve seen my mother’s death many times

The light in her room is dim; she is transparent

I see her defensive, withdrawn, fragile and childlike.

While she’s ill, I look

Outside the diagnosis and cure, for her life.

I’ve seen my mother die many times

To prepare my grief for when it really happens;

But my loss is premature while she lives.

Get ready for it I warn myself.

I tell her what she’s done for me;

I wish her aged state would encompass my dreams.

She is dying before my eyes,

And her death cannot be in vain.

I want her to go knowing, that her hardships

Are the foundations for her children’s future.

Yet she fails to understand her influence

And she still has her battles to fight.

Only when they are lost will she listen

To my words of gratitude and love.