to mother

Take my hand,
I will walk with you
the last miles
measuring my steps to yours.

When you’re weary
we will sit and talk
of Daddy and girlhood friends
and whose related to whom,
and I won’t mind
that sometimes
you cut me off mid-
sentence because your hearing’s
not so good.

I will handle your treasures carefully
knowing they are more
than mere bells and teacups and photos.
I will do all I can of grocery shopping
running errands, changing light bulbs
cleaning closets, setting hair, coming
when you call and praying comfort.

Come. Take my hand.
We will walk the last miles together
Into the brilliant sunset you deserve.

© 2004 by Violet Nesdoly
(published first in Prairie Messenger).

I post this today for Katy Raymond - and her Mom.