My mom is in the hospital.
Stroke victim.
She’s talking gobble-dee-gook.
She scrunches her brow real hard
before uttering her words.
Sometimes the sentences
start out pretty good,
then take a turn halfway through.
“Isn’t it terrible,” she starts,
“the fess in the mess?”
And she looks puzzled,
knowing that’s not what
she had in mind.
She even laughs at the
silly syllables sometimes.
“How come they let the knickers
in seen?” and, “It was freshen to me.”
But one of the dearest things she said
was after I’d had a good cry.
She looked at me with tender eyes
and asked, “Did you find your heart?”


About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard.
This entry was posted in children, emotions, family, health, human interest, humor, love, mother, nostalgia, poetry, psychology, relationships, sadness, senior citizens, spirituality, women. Bookmark the permalink.

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