All of my childhood heroes are dead,
the famous ones,
the uncelebrated ones,
they're all gone now.
All but one;
my mother.
She is still alive.
She is old.
She is tired.
She is feeble and weak
but she is still funny
and kind
and she struggles to decern
between reality and illusion.
Is it the medication
or is it the disease ?
It matters not.
She drifts between worlds
and lives in both.
Oh, my father is still alive too.
