Premise: A short life story of my mother and the agonizing decisions at her life’s end.

A young dark haired girl playing jax upon a sidewalk
The Bronx, 1930’s, oozing ethnicity and a strange sort of talk

Wrist cocked, jax spew, red ball bouncing, bouncing
If time stood still, we can see her rejoicing

What happens next is the only matter
No thought of anguish should Doris or Joyce choose to scatter

A young woman finds her man, her narrow purpose becomes clear
A family of four, suburbia, a job without a life, yet there is no fear

The tumultuous 60’s see her blossom, wanting to flourish
Yet never discovering a path she could nourish

She enjoys friends, she gives love, she lives stress
Short of patience, delighting in ignorance, accepting of less

Yearning for more but with no clear vision
Accepting her destiny without derision

Her grandchildren revitalize, oh what treasure
Exceeding rewards felt from her own, by a measure

Years skip past, they never seem to last
Life advances at an increasing pace, carving long weary lines upon her face

In her son, she leaves a legacy of confidence, pride and hunger to achieve
All because it was her who did believe
She has earned our love
A gentle caress, never again to feel distress

As the end nears
Stripped of her dignity and her fears

She has our love, through any imperfection
At this moment of inflection, she should go
Each of us will pray, for your time is today
Youth n-Age-a