This is a memory now,
But a memory that feels like today.
I see you lying here in bed,
Here in the nursing home.
Mom tries to wake you
But there is no response,
Other than the rhythm of your breathing.
Your eyes never awaken,
Your slumber never broken.
I don't know how,
And I don't know why,
But I know that this is the last time.
The last time I'll see you alive.
As we file out of the room,
I'm the last to leave.
And as I am at the threshold,
I turn around,
And whisper,
"Goodbye Grammy."
