"May I?"

I give her  a drag

on my cigarette.

She still loves the taste

after 80 yrs. of living,

bearing children,

raising 3 boys,

teaching us,

feeding us,

clothing us,

supporting us

as we stumbled into

our own lackluster lives.

Few words are shared;

her neurons,

once connected

to fulfill her daily tasks,

now disconnect one by one,

causing gaps in the memories,

not knowing what the fragments

mean anymore.

T.I.A.s are insidious events,

stealing away the

meaning of the familiar,

robbing you of the words

needed to share life,

erasing who you think you are,

making strangers of

your most intimate relations.

And it is only one way

of fading into oblivion,

as all we will.

So, say we all.

So, say we all.

Amen.