She came home yesterday,
like once I came home: sore, tired, scared, needing ....
I can hear her in the other room, sleeping, breathing, dreaming,
making noises that I try to file as happy or hurt.
A lifetime (my lifetime) of shielding and loving and nurturing,
at what cost to her dreams and wants and wishes.
Food, messes, laundry, worries about the dog,
all of it flipped on end ... in the end.
I'm angry ... at her frailty or fragility or looming mortality,
(don't know which ... maybe all, maybe more)
how dare she be so strong for so long, and only now be ... human.
I want my mommy, need her,
but now, somehow, she needs me.