Memories?

Memories?

Years ago, I lost a grandparent to it.
Today, I am losing a parent
The losses start out small, tiny pebbles of
forgetfulness

Now mountains of memory have been
claimed

In response, to a nurse's query, he does give her his address.
She does not know that it is to a house that he hasn't seen in
seventy years.

This morning when asked if he had children-he said "no:. So, I show up this afternoon... one of his four non-existent "kids'.

My dad is 93. I am 60. He knows who I am. For now.
He once was a master speaker. Now  he responds with a word or two.
We laugh a little, he smiles. He's happy and that's all that matters.

Most of everything is forgotten. Except love.
Except love.