Looking Ahead

(r to l) My Mom Dorothy, sister Mary Ann, niece Emma, and Rosemary Anderson.

Looking Ahead

6/9/11

My Mom is afraid of falling

at 87, having done it before,

so now she watches her feet,

head down, shoulders rolled, unsettled, unsure

is no prescription for staying balanced,

unable to see lay of land

robs perception of how ground slopes,

pavement slants, or relationship to tilts,

lending itself toward tunnel vision, fear,

making her world narrow, small, dangerous,

frightening with thoughts of weak dependency

tantamount to death for Irish matriarch,

and that also brings queasy feelings

imagining darkest night of the soul

though barely glanced at for moment,

nothing's easy when world comes undone

where medications confuse mind, body, spirit,

emotional inner compass for making sense

while navigating territory of last days,

living alone with few who understand

begets melancholy sadness about times past,

who's no longer alive for sharing,

what can't ever be done again,

plus assumed painful suffering when dying,

perhaps remedy is 'gratitude for blessings'

past, present, looking ahead for more.