She is smiling at me
Proud of what she sees
Delighted, moved, elated
That I am staying
To keep her company.
Nobody is ever that happy to see me
She loves me and I love her
More than words can say –
Though believe me, I am rarely at a loss
When it comes to them.
She tells me stories of a time past
When she was still able to walk,
And live, and thrive, and be.
Her memory is the most amazing wonder
Of all. She remembers everything
From the name of my mother’s first pet
To random names – Donata and Anne Marie –
The daughters of that French man
Who married an Italian woman ages ago.
She tells jokes and
Builds bridges out of thoughts.
She jumps from one subject to the other
With such agility. Immersive small talk is her specialty.
Her knowledge of our family history – and of all the families
Who ever lived in the area – is endless, really.
I am captivated.
I listen to her and almost forget
She is restless.
Her cheerful facade never holds up long enough
To fool those who know her best.
She has already been showing signs.
As hard as she is trying
She can’t hide those twitches of pain
From shadowing her tales.
The expressions of her face,
Her voice, her laughs, her bitter banters even,
I wish I could record her, to keep her longer,
But even if I did,
It would never be the same without her.
I love you Mamie <3, please fight the pain. Don’t give up,
and stay with me for as long as you can.
Featured image captured in Veynes’ artificial lake, Hautes Alpes, France, with my iPhone 5c, HDR, in September 2014.