Remember-A-Wish

Remember-A-Wish

Yesterday, I sat with Betty.

More factually, she sat with me.

Just plopped down

in her fuzzy pink housecoat -

large eyes, large breasts, large curls.

She wanted to talk to me

about something at the home

that she felt just wasn’t right.

So I listened, in between

my mother making her own

comments on my sweater’s stripes.

Hey. Where’d get that?

Mother asked.

And while I told her,

I was also nodding my head

at Betty, who swears she was right.

I know I saw her working

somewhere else, she said.

And then went on to repeat

her sworn testimony

interspersed with stories

of a mother with Alzheimer’s

and a father with dementia,

how she was raised on horses

and always had cats,

was now owner of “Itsy” -

a Chihuahua in miniature.

Hey, I like that sweater.

Mother tried to join in.

Your mom repeats a lot.

Betty replied but didn’t pause.

What I mostly wanted to keep

was my horse, Randy.

And here, I couldn’t tell

if the name was tongue in cheek

or named after an old beau.

But I nodded my head

as she spoke fervently about

caring for the horse.

And I wondered later

if there wasn’t some way

to make her wish come true.

But if it happened,

wouldn’t her wish just disappear?

My family asked.

And I agreed, It would dissipate,

go unremembered.

But the universe would not forget.

11/23/13