dverse Gratitude Prompt by Frank J. Tassone

She lies in her bed day after day, long night after long night, week by week by month by year. Occasionally, she smiles, repeats what we say, mostly she sleeps, mostly she knows nothing but her dreams. She’s ninety-six years old and still converses with her mother, calls for her, laughs with her in her dreams that are more real than reality. She loves yogurt, chocolate, peach ice cream and her Christmas tree that we keep in her room, lighted, decorated all year. She points at it and smiles.

It is a picture of old age that frightens me. The starkness of helplessness. The burden of being cared for. But it may not come to that. I may die before my mind turns inward and forgets. It makes me grateful though for the years I have had. For the love I’ve known. For…