i thought of you this morning 
as I turned on a lamp
reading glasses clenched between my teeth  

        you were in that old, coffee-colored recliner
        white socks and sandals
        reading James Patterson with the pages up close to your face
        glasses held in your mouth    

tonight you were again on my mind
as I washed dishes from supper  

        i saw you standing at the sink
        mom behind you tying on your apron
                    fussing at you about cleaning in your dress shirt
        you used to tell me that washing dishes each night
        gave you a sense of accomplishment something completed at the end of the day  

 i too relish in the simple pleasure of a clear sink
 clean countertops
 the soft hum of a full dishwasher  

how much more as I age will I remember you
and
see you       

in me?