I’ve entered a race I would have never chosen to be. I’m taking care of her who took care of me. The funeral was the easy, a skill I’ve learned and consider an art The nightmare began when I was left to console my mother’s broken heart. Family is forever or so the saying goes but tales of guilt, anger and resentment are always left untold. It’s an epic race to the finish for the audience to see But no one can predict who the winner will be Will it be the mother so elderly and frail Or her only daughter who died in a living hell. I tried to grant her every wish though the cost was high To live alone and be independent she just had to try. The race is still going strong As the days of worry continue on and on Simple mistakes and unscathed falls began to grow, Did you take your medication? She really didn’t know. These missteps were dangerous and put her life at stake Forcing me into a hard decision to make. The race is growing weary and my prayers I no longer believe For her to die in peace at home in her bed would be a reprieve Though I know a wish for death may not be polite The end of her grieve, heartache and suffering is nowhere in site. Now I’m forced to take her from her home of 55 years Bringing not only her, but all of us to tears. The punishment I felt in doing the right thing Would never subside my heartache’s sting I knew she would be safe, cared for and fed But self doubt, guilt and depression remained in my head. It’s like a terminal illness but without an ending date. A countdown to the last kiss, the last hug, the last day of self-hate. The moral of the story that you should value most is to never to be burden or become a living ghost. To be responsible everyday And never leave your mistakes for others to repay.
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