Mom, May 23, 1930 - November 28, 2011

Had it not been for one of her neighbors calling to recruit my help in straightening out a mix-up in her prescription delivery, I might not have known she was even in the hospital.

Had I not gotten frustrated with her not answering the phone in her room, and asked the nurse to check to see if it was working, I might never have had our last conversation -- ever.

Had things gone differently, my sister and I might've been in town visiting then, instead of the trip planned for this next week, and we might've seen her one last time.

Had only life been different, but life was life, it happened as it did, and now all that's left is to pick up the pieces of my world that has seemed to fall around me.

I keep encountering fragments and stare at them, trying to make sense of it. Trying to decide what to keep, and what to leave to fall away in time.

I keep staring, but not everything comes into focus.

Sometimes, like now, the tears come to wash away that film that clouds my mind.

They don't always leave a clearer view.