Last Choice

I do not want my Mom to die
Is that selfish of me?
I should be saying,
“Mom, do what you need to do.
Don’t worry about us.
We’re fine.
We’re strong.
We all stand on our own two feet
just like you taught us.
We’re OK.”
But that would be a lie.
I do not want my Mom to die

Choose Life Mom!
Choose to stay.
Have your 90th birthday trip with Dad.
It’s planned.
Just a few years away.
Stay for you, for the good times
with Dad
for the sweet times
with great grandchildren

Make a choice, Mom!
The biggest choice so far in your life.
Be the extraordinary one,
the one who defies the odds.
So I can show you my “poem” someday.

Stay to visit me in Portland,
to cruise down the river,
Dad on your arm.
Sixty-six years is a good, long marriage.
Make it seventy.
Stay to celebrate your 70th anniversary,
to play golf with your golf buddy,
to go shopping with me,
to put the children’s drawings on your fridge,
to see the world brighter through your new,
cataract-free eye.

Stay for you.
To watch Maddie graduate from middle school,
to see Richard succeed,
to watch his first big film,
to visit your children,
Me, Jack, Jan,
and Pam and Linda, your honorary kids.
Stay for all the wonder you’ve created in your life.

But mostly stay
for you.
And yes, I know.
I admit
this may be a selfish request.
I do not want my Mom to die.