Talking to you…I followed her up those stairs 6/28/19

I remember that day,

So very long ago.

Stuck in my head,

A blink of an eye,

It appears

Right in front of me.

~~~

I followed her up the stairs,

Like you always told me to do.

She was screaming

And yelling,

I did not understand.

Did she know this would be

her last trip up those stairs?

I think she knew.

~~~

She went straight to the bathroom

And sat down on the pot,

All these years

My memory, a child’s, simple.

She just wanted to sit on her own toilet.

As the years have passed,

After rehashing it

Again and again,

I see it much differently…

~~~

I followed her up the stairs,

Like you always told me to do.

Did she want one last look

at the bed you shared?

The room you built,

in the house for her?

The bathroom and

shower she no longer used,

Because she stayed

Downstairs now.

In a room finished

just for her.

That you would,

Before long, give to me

When you remarried,

And moved her son into my old room.

~~~

I followed her up the stairs,

Like you always told me to do.

To the room you shared

It would be empty soon

Or occupied by one, you.

I think she knew.

~~~

I followed her up the stairs,

Like you always told me to do.

She was swatting

At my hand with her cane

I had ahold of the belt

Wrapped around her waist

Used to help support her

If she started to fall.

I knew,

She wanted me to let her go,

But I held on…

~~~

I listened to you

I followed her up those stairs

Like you always told me to do.

Later, I remember confiding in you.

Explaining my confusing story,

But I do not remember you

Ever talking to me about why

She went up those stairs.

You let me believe

What I saw, not what I felt.

It was easier.

~~~

I followed her up those stairs

Like you always told me to do.

In such agony

A rage I’d never witnessed

She went into her bathroom

Continuing to crow

I stood and watched

Not knowing

Which way to go

~~~

I followed her up those stairs,

Like you always told me to do.

Not knowing

The why

Until I constructed

My own truth,

I put it together,

And I’m glad

I followed her up those stairs.

Her last trip

Was with me,

I’d like to think.

~~~