My mother
who occupies much of my attention
is getting older.

This may be a shock to no one.
She may not be alone in the phenomenon of
“getting older”
that I referred to
but it is of a certain importance to me.

I have only the one parent left
and I think no one would be surprised
that she was always the more important one.

I never was Daddy’s Little Boy.

I try to spend the time I can with my mother
while she has her faculties intact.
She remembers most things
and her logic is basically where it should be.
She asks me for more help than she used to,
but I think it’s because she’s lazy
not because she’s incompetent.
When she reads this, she’ll let me know
– probably with a swing to the chops.

I’m happy to help my Mom,
to spend time with her
and I try not to dwell
on the overriding reason
why spending time with her now
is important:
scarcity.

Whether 20 days or 20 years
there’s a ticking clock
that I strive to ignore
and yet appreciate all at once.

She’s mentioned her bad back lately.
I hope it’s not anything major.