A Date with a Dream
She looked diaphanous, wistful,
a doily for a teacup, in the
last months of her final decade.
When I came for the holidays,
I hadnít seen Mom for so long.
Couldnít recall when I last had.
So much happened: the accident,
my hospital stay in rehab,
Dadís passing & others gone since.
And Mom, in the twilight of her
dementia, was far away now
mentally. I started to think,
during the trip on the way up,
if Mom would still remember me;
she stayed alive for a reason.
The day I got to spend with her
was a time we seemed to connect,
with eye contact, her winsome smile,
a faint little laugh just for me.
While playing The Andrew Sisters
with Bing Crosby, my sisters danced.
The evening didnít want to end,
but soon it would be time for bed
and Mom sat gazing off nowhere.
I hoped she was hearing Dadís voice
saying; ďWeíll soon meet in a dream.
Iíll come pick you up for our date.Ē