Something to hold

Dad is dying,

Mum forgeting,

my sister and I go, to move them to a home,

we pack all their stuff, efficient, brusque

cardboard coffins stuffed with paper and memories,

black garbage bags dumped in the charity bin,

books donated cruelly, like orphans by

unfeeling aunts, who turn and leave, releaved to be rid of them

then my sister finds a Bear, an old beat up thing with ratty matted fur and a broken

button on one eye, and now she is no longer

my ally, she becomes like my parents, emotional

confused, very childlike, full of tears

the tattered bear has a name,

as silly as his felt pink tonguse

she pets him, hugs him

reminds him of days

that smelled of cut grass

that sang like a Red Robin

that laughed like a little girl

that kissed like a mother.

she can’t recall his name

but somehow Mum

who can no longer find the mailbox

knows his name is Freddy Bear

And then she finds my Eddy Bear

and we laugh in the kitchen

and I remember who my parents were

and hug who they are now tightly, regretfully