Phone conversations with mom have become almost impossible. She refuses to wear hearing aids and she tends to accidentally push the mute button, so you can imagine the result.

So I brave through another wave of grief. Back in the day, mom and I talked on the phone almost every day. We would chat about everything and nothing. A friend to confide in, who was always ready for some loving advice. She was a positive person, always trying to find a bright spot to any issue. I wrote this last night to help me “just keep swimming” in the grief. Poetry always does that for me.

To reach me
The line

Feeble, rushed, and
On the buttons
You can’t

You mumble,
“Are you coming to get me?”

Among other
Disjointed imaginings
In your head

“That’s what the Dr said”
“Tomorrow, you take me home”
“Speak louder! I can’t hear you!”

Like trying to
Save a drowning
Muffled requests,
Urgent pleas,
Save me
Save me
Save me

“I love you, mom!”
“I’ll see you soon!”
And seeing
It’s a I can do

A lifeline
To hold her up
So her fears
Don’t choke her
To soon

Just enough
To keep her afloat
another minute,
Or until
I’m with her again
In her


One thought on “Lifeline

  1. You are a very humble, caring, talented beautiful person Mary. I have tears when I read your lovely poams. I deal with depression each & every day but it’s nothing compared to what you have. I admire you honey, God be with you,
    Love, Polly

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