Your Mother

You’re waiting for her to stop recognizing you-
in the way she lost acquaintances,
her friends
and then your children-
her grandchildren.

Every time you meet her,
you look into her eyes for that moment of connection.
That moment where she knows you.

There is a pull at your stomach,
hers too (for now),
where you were once one.
You know that with every day
she loses more of your shared history.

You know that, soon,
you will look at her and see your mother
and she will look back at a stranger.
This moment is what you fear most.
You becoming nothing to her
as she continues to slip farther away,
right here,
but also gone.

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