I remember our conversation, effort to
calm emotions, phone glued to ear like
a natural extension. Her voice, exhausted…
“When will this be over?” She asked Dad
days later, more like a plea. He could be
gentle or travel the path of honesty. I don’t
know the words he pulled from his language
of a sixty-seven-year love…how he tiptoed
through the reply, though tenderly, I imagine,
since his heart was shattering into millions
of minute fragments. Her time was close.
Our awareness vigilant. Each day, another
breath held until the hands of time would
pause. Then as quickly as the sun fades
behind rolling hills, raindrops splash upon us.
She had ascended. Moments of memories
to follow. But not one day passes without
celebrating her life. Not one day slips by
without her knowing how much she is
loved and missed.
Lauren Scott (c)
Mom would be 101 today,
and since she loved her roses,
we dedicate this beauty for her. ❤️