Homecoming

I pushed you through the mall
in your wheelchair,
when you couldn't walk,
in hopes of stumbling across
a moment of clarity.

It's still hard to look
at the same oxygen tanks
I used to carry
under my arms.
The humming has stopped.

We seem to have only lost
a spot at the table,
but we still set it, in denial.
It's just too hard to swallow,
without scanning for your smile.

I miss you so much,
so much.
I miss the lists of names
you would drop
before catching mine-

It was a Bingo of cognition,
wherein ever remembrance
was a gain.
If only again,
one last time.

Alzheimers is like rabies-
It is not fatal,
until you realize how gone
they are.
Then you have to let them fall.

You would be so proud.
I have salvaged my soul.
I've grown into the man of the house,
now I'm taking care
of mom.

You always said I would fly,
and you weren't wrong.
I've taken off,
but it doesn't feel right
without you.

Grammy,

save me
a spot
at your table
with God.

I remember our dinners so fondly.