Old now, in a strange place, in a room, I lie in bed.
Knowing I'll never leave here. The black of night engulfs me.
My eyes roam the void seeking light.
There, a crack of light from under the door.
Shadows of feet passing in the hall, the night nurse?
Can't call out to her, she's angry, mean and cold.
She once said,
"Stop whining like a bitch"
Alone, don't like being alone.
Want someone, anyone to talk to, this fear is familiar.
I know it from childhood Mother quelled it then.
Holding me so close to her breast I could hear her heartbeat.
She'd sing softly to me with her arms around me.
Oh Mother I miss you so. You can't hold me, you've gone.
Other days, golden days invade my thoughts.
Mom and I laughing in the back yard, in perpetual Spring.
Fast forward to my Mother's dying, I was so afraid for her.
I wanted to go with her but she said, "It's not your time."
I asked, "Will I see you again?"
"I'll be there waiting for you on the other side."
I once feared death until Mother explained it,
"Remember what it was like before you were born?"
"No Mama, I can't remember."
She held my hand and squeezed it with each word,
"Well, that's what death is...nothing. It's just my time to go"
Now I think it's my time to go.