Scott is dying in hospice

I think of him at this late time in his life

How he has found a way

to finally give something back, at least to me

 

His low place anchored

with misdeeds and transgressions

Still, he was loved by our mother

 

She was gone before him

In her absence, I looked after him

Food and other needed things

 

Anger made this an unwelcome burden at first,

while I still wandered in the fog of her loss

Urged on to help by the way she raised me

 

I became grateful for the tasks as time passed.

They somehow made her absence less real

I felt her smile every time I reached out to him

 

I wish he could have been a better person

But in my mind, and unbeknownst to him,

he has been, again and again

As my gratitude goes out into the universe,

I hope he does not suffer