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You Ask Me to Remember
You ask me to remember,
It is so much easier to not,
I want to hide it away.
The memory of my momma.
She was there.
When I called her.
To listen to me.
To give me a hug.
To tell me it would be all right.
Then I was there, to tell her it would be all right.
When I knew it would not be.
That last day.
The phone rang.
I let it ring
For I knew, what it would be.
I let it ring
I answered it.
I went back to sleep.
My family could not understand.
But if I slept, then I would not need to remember that
No longer would your voice be,
To answer the phone when I needed
To hear that everything would be all right.
I still miss you Mom.
I still need you Mom.
You are always in my heart.
I remember silly things that make me laugh.
I make cookies at Christmas again.
I even buy silly gifts again.
I send Christmas cards again.
I take lots of photographs.
I am living again.
I miss you. I love you. I am taking care, Mom.
Diane Nybo Curry, RN, MS, is a doctor of nursing practice student at the University of Arizona and a pediatric nurse practitioner student. She writes that she has cared for children with cancer and hope to return to pediatric palliative care when she has finished her program. “I wrote this poem about my Mom, an oncology nurse in Upper Chesapeake Medical Center in Maryland.”
Diane Nybo Curry, RN...Image Tools
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