Haiku about My Mom (3)

You know when you get an image, or a moment in time, or a piece of a conversation, just a little smidgen of a day get tucked in your brain, and then it comes to the surface days, maybe weeks, later? Sometimes it makes you laugh. But, I have one that puts me on the brink of tears. I have been tucking it back every time it surfaces. I told my sisters briefly about it. I used very little words, and I felt my nose start that itchy feeling I get when I'm just about to cry. I just said at the end, "That was rather sad hearing her say that." And that is the last I've confronted it, until today. It's been popping in and out of my consciousness all day. It's time to release it.

Last week my mom had an appointment with her neurologist, a checkup on how she's doing dementia-wise. For a few minutes, I had to remember where the office was. Mom told me where she thought it was and I knew that wasn't it. I found the address and we left. I told Mom, "It's right across the street from the hospital." But, Mom insisted it was not, so I drove her to where she said it was located and she saw that it was her allergist office instead. She didn't say anything and we went to her appointment. Afterward, we had to go back to the allergist for something that is another story all together. On the way home, we passed the neurologist's office and Mom said, "There is Dr. Yukki's office. I can walk from my house, just go on Cherry Street...." "Yes, Mom," I say to her. She says "See, honey, I can remember." And those five words have been haunting me since. 

Gardenia-one of my mother's favorites.

This evening I write a haiku, inspired by my mother's words, which she uttered to assure herself, more than me, that in that "bad" moment, she indeed can still remember. 

Struggling to find

that fact, which is hidden deep,

to prove I still can.