Lois went to a place
full of old,
sick,
inconvenient people
sitting in chairs
lining the hallway
denied my impulse
to care for her myself
by her husband;
because,
as he put it,
I had a life
& a family
of my own.
I said,
isn’t she
part of that?
It doesn’t matter
now, because
the result was
since she saw us
just once a week
& could only remember
in minutes
other people
became her family,
not us.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Oh Susan. I am glad you are writing all of this out. In the process you are describing a truth so difficult to put into words…and something so many people on this Earth suffer through. Tears are just streaming for me personally. -Jennifer
Now you’ve got me teared up…..the next one is going to be about why I call her Lois in most of these poems, and not mother. I just figured it out myself today.