THE GRANDMOTHERS' GRANDMOTHER

It comes to us all, every woman,
it's guises many;
lingering illness,
children grown,
perhaps a job that no longer matters.

We weren't expecting it  —
the knock at the door,
a stranger, 
yet
in some uncanny way,
familiar  —
like a memory from lifetimes ago.

An ancient crone beckons us;
we go, 
feeling uncertain.
Her arms reach out in welcome.
We melt into her comforting warmth.

The destination of this journey 
is the same for each  —
time to let go, 
mother no more.

How different we feel,
distanced,
as if watching the lives around us 
from afar.
In our heart the love is there,
just as always,
yet changed somehow.

Though compassion remains;
no longer do we try, 
futilely, 
to fix  
people's lives,
relationships,
hearts.

We offer love,
encouragement,
our prayers   —
the rest we leave to them.

© 1996 Judy Anne 

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