Monthly Archives: May 2018

We remembered: a poem for mom

The last time
We were together
In our regular way

I went to the store in the morning
And bought the foods of your childhood

I went to your house and fixed you lunch.
Boiled the new potatoes and buttered them.
Dressed them with salt, and pepper.

We both saw the ancestors
In the buttered bread
And in the dill, green and feathery.

We spoke of grandpa’s garden, the things he grew there
Ate tomatoes and cucumbers dripping with juice.

We remembered the pocket knife he carried, and the way he harvested things
Fresh from the vine

The last time we were together in the regular way

We remembered.

Love you mom. Always and forever.
Thank you for listening.
Love,
Natasha

A photo taken a few minutes before my mom, Lucie Hellberg, passed away in hospice last week after suffering a stroke; a complication of her long, and valiant battle with cancer. She took her last breaths just as a rainbow appeared accross the sky following the first spring thunderstorm. Her nurse took this photo.

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