I drew a picture of Mom
in pastels,
as she was dying.
I rubbed the chalky lines
with my finger,
and raised tiny clouds of colored dust.
Later on that night,
I had yellow, green, and blue streaks
at the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks.
Those colors may have been what
my mother’s quieting eyes
were resting on
when the world whimpered
that evening, and, for awhile..
ceased to breathe
(I want to finish the written part of the journey with Mom through Alzheimer’s which I’ve shared with many of you. She died on April 22 and, as my wife has said, we are getting used to the "new normal." The writing will come (because it must). For now there is this. I have the actual picture I drew in a notebook and I’ve looked at it once, and may never look at it again. The New Normal is still fragile. Thank you again, all of you who sent notes, thoughts, prayers, and tears. We who loved her have been blessed by you.)
The First Morning 
My sincerest condolences in the transition of your little mama’s spirit onto the after-life. You are a testament to the kind of Mom she must have been. I know she must have been very proud of you.
Dear Friend, My younger brother left this morning after a two day stop over on his way back to Colorado. Last night we were recollecting on what we might have not become had it not been for our mom. I remember your talking about your mother and your aunts in such a rich way. What a blessing she has been in my life through you. Thanks Mom.
Dear Barry,
I am so moved by your writing, the tenderness of your love, of your mom, of the love and the work that was and is your relationship with her is so clear. Also, it is such a pleasure to have found this and you after all this time – we being fellow old-time SU people. I quite ‘get’ your sentiment; I have been through this but learned from your writing a new dimension to the love. My sympathies for you and your family. You loved and love her well, and she you.