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To My Mom
Seeing her there, sitting at the front porch Dreaming of this moment for a long time Dreaming of throwing myself between her arms Showering her with kisses, telling her how much I love her Telling her how much I've missed her But, when she did not move not even to meet me halfway Instead she stayed there, staring at me with an empty look At this moment when my dreams chattered “Mom, it is me, don't you remember?” I said She stared at me some more and said “Who are you sweet girl?” Then and there, I realized that I'd lost my mom “Who was this woman in front of me?” This was not the same woman that I've always known, the woman who raised me to become the woman that I am Instead, the woman in front of me was thin, frail…… a shell of her old self She laughed, cried, screamed “I want to get out of here.” She lived in her own world, a world out of anyone's reach “What did you do with my mom”? “Where is she? I want her back” But when I looked into her gentle, kind eyes Feeling her warm touch I knew she was still there, somewhere My stay was bittersweet, to see my mom but whom that I can never reach Before I left I looked at her and wondered “Will I see her again?” “I am certain I will—isn't that what all religions promised the mankind?” “Mom,” I said, “I will see you again. “But my only hope is that you will remember me when we meet again”
Paulette Mhawech-Fauceglia, MD, Professor of Pathology at the University of Southern California, dedicated this poem to her mother, who lived for many years with a severe form of dementia. “She died in February—it was very sad, but I hope she found peace at last after many years of suffering.”
Paulette Mhawech-Fau...Image Tools
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