For Mother’s Day

I don’t remember your voice,
Or what would make you laugh
I don’t remember your hands,
Not really, not enough to count
I don’t remember the last time
I saw you healthy, rather my last memories
are as you live ill and dying,
not what either of us want
I know there were times before
when you insisted on going out
and seeking hidden places
of import to you and dragging us along
Times when we yelled and laughed and cried
but today, 16 years and two months since you died,
what I remember most isn’t what I remember
most clearly or what has faded best
or even all the things I wish I knew
Today I remember that you love me
Which is what I believe you wanted to last
Written May 7, 2011

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