Who Will Watch Mother

We sat down at the kitchen table Under an overhead light And talked about my mother My wife understood I was the oldest, she said Don’t wait for the others. So I took care of mother Paid the bills Spoke to the landlord Went food shopping And did what needed to be done. On a cold winter day Mother was hospitalized For the third time I waited in the hall Facing two red leatherette lounge chairs The kind that are Inexpensive and easy to clean Vending machine just a few steps away All designed to make someone Feel comfortable. Startled, I turned T o see a nurse Coming from nowhere Her face a masquerade As if she wanted to stop And tell me something But couldn’t When she walked past me I listened to her padded footsteps As she disappeared Down another beige corridor. Absent mindedly I returned to random thoughts Odds and ends of an old woman’s life When a heart aches And memory fails All is that left Are promises And words Dangling somewhere “Call us if you ever need anything.” No one visited Not the nieces Not the nephews She sent Christmas cards to Stuffed with cash Written in an old style of writing Some misspellings But always signed “Love Grandma.” Eager to show their concern They call me now And ask how she’s doing I cradle the phone on my shoulder And listen to their words With a blank stare. Mother has taken a turn for the worse Cancer has spread There is pain But the medication masks it And she sleeps most of the day Seemingly in peace. Occasionally she calls me By someone’s else name She’s forgotten a lot of things After considering What she’s been through Perhaps it’s better this way.