I wonder if she remembered him
during the happy times, when he was “all there”
and not just as he was at the end,
when he couldn’t remember who any of us were.
She lost him a day after he waved goodbye,
and I remember the tears in her eyes
when she recounted the story,
“It’s as if he were ‘all there’ again,
and he knew where he was and that
everything was clear to him.”
She took off her glasses to wipe her tears,
slowly trying to convince herself
that this was how it was all supposed to be.
She held me in her arms a little while longer,
as grandmothers do, comforting me
as much as she was comforting herself.