Mom had a sad attack today.
I wonder not how can it be.
At 92 I am amazed
They happen so infrequently.
She can't remember days gone by;
And always when she looks ahead
She sees the pictures on the wall
Of all the people who are dead.
I hold her, wringing out the tears;
And listen for the reason why.
I do not ask when all she says,
"Great sadness is what made me cry."
Eventually the sobbing ends.
Then later when the cloud has gone
She dries my tears and says to me,
"Come on now son let's carry on."