I drew a picture of Mom
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.)