On the prospect of having to put one’s mom in a nursing home, and knowing she will never understand.
Make me remember how hard it was,
I’d be kept up nights,
I’d cry myself to sleep.
Make me remember how broken-hearted I’d get
When she’d wish me dead,
When she’d make me weep.
Make me know that this is for the best
That I’ll not desert her,
That she’ll not be alone…
Make me know that she’ll have others with her
And I can always visit
I can always phone…
Make her remember how I love her so
In her times of need
In her darkest hours
Make her remember that I’m her best friend
Keep us both looking up
…And both smelling the flowers.
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