When the rain came

I'm curled up under the duvet,

while the rain spills down

from the sky.

Come,

April showers.

Downstairs I can smell each

coffee bean being roasted to perfection.

It's easy,

on days like this~

to dream of faraway places

with seas the colour of turquoise.

Later, my sister~in~law

will come,

probably in a red dress that is ill fitting,

and red shoes that match.

We will take my mama ~in~law

to the first of her residential homes today.

This Easter has been a time of deep thought,

quiet reflection.

Old age comes to us all.

I reminded myself of this each time

I cleared up the ironing that Mama

had strewn around the rooms,

when I found her washing in the kitchen sink.

I'm tired.

But when I look into her eighty year old eyes,

I try to remember the girl she once was.

Loving her seven children,

when money was short

and times were hard.

Now ,

we give our love back to her.

By clearing the little trails of

forgetfulness she leaves behind.

When the rain came.