Childhood memories vivid but fleeting….
The warmth of her embrace.
The sound of her laughter.
Her full-body ‘giggle’.
The smell of her cooking,
mingled with cigarettes.
The hunch in her back.
The touch of her hands,
crippled with age.
watching soap operas;
eating soft-boiled eggs for breakfast,
and spumoni ice cream for dessert;
April Fool’s jokes;
stories from The National Enquirer;
and our annual viewing of the Wizard of Oz.
A constant through childhood.
A safe haven in her arms.
When did it begin?
She looked the same but really wasn't.
the moment that her memories began to fade;
the hour when no one was familiar;
the day when she ceased to be the person I knew.
Was there fear? Anguish? Or passive acceptance?
If I knew then, what I know now…..
Would it have made a difference?
Would I, or she, have done things differently?
Or said things left unspoken?
An unconditional acceptance and love like no other,
gone over time and in an instant.
© Esther Goldstein, 2018