At the Nursing Home
She did not realize
she was in a nursing home.
Had been in one hospital,
thought she had been transferred to another.
A bit confusing, but she liked it.
“Amazing place,” she said.
“I walk around to the dining room, sit down,
and someone brings me a plate of food.
When I’m done, they pick it up and take it away.”
Then this mother who raised eight children
whispered conspiratorially,
“I haven’t washed a dish since I’ve been here,”
as though she might be found out
and have to take her turn.
She never did,
and everybody was happy.
17 thoughts on "At the Nursing Home"
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Mothers are special! I can relate because I cared for my mother in her later years. Your poem brought a laugh and smile.
Thanks!
This is really well done; efficient and effective
Thank you!
Bittersweet memory, emphasis on the sweet. Lovely.
Thanks, Kevin!
Bittersweet is exactly the right word. It made me smile and a bit sad so definitely well done!
I love this. The stuff dreams are made of
love how it ends like a fairytale
Very nice!
Just a little reframing from curse to blessing.
This hit home and struck me. I love the turn with the conspirical “as though she might be found out”
I love this narrative and quiet comic relief.
Thanks, Jaz!
This took me back when I was a dietary aide at a nursing home! Agree with the bittersweet.
Thanks, Carina!
Such a gentle, compassionate portrait of love and dignity in difficult times. This made me smile several times over.