Baby steps. That is what they told her as her cane tapped the floor,
Why? Did they not realize she was not a baby anymore?
It took her several minutes to rise from the bed and hold steady,
Soon they would come and she needed to be ready.
Baby steps. Only a few at a time. She did not want to go,
Sure she was old, tired, and walked really slow.
This was home. She had lived here with her man many a year,
Lived with him, loved him, shed many a tear.
And the tears fell, soft and slow as the memories surfaced.
She could have stopped, but she kept going with a purpose.
Going into the kitchen she grabbed the Quaker oatmeal box,
Was not important treasures. Did not need a lock.
Her cane in one hand, her oatmeal box in the other,
Her greatest memories of her husband and lover.
Baby steps. It took her awhile to make it to the door,
And taking her baby steps walked onto the front porch.
Her old tired frame settled in her rocking chair,
“Oh my love, I remember us going there.”
A picture of the beach so beautiful the shore,
They had each other. Why could they want anything more?
She hummed a tune as she looked at the ticket stub from the play,
Pulling her glasses low she squinted so she could see the date.
Phantom of the Opera. He took her for a surprise,
She sniffled a few times and taking her hand wiping tears from her eyes.
A lock of hair wrapped in foil, the color of a raven’s wings,
A smile lights her eyes and oh such joy it brings.
Their first child. A little baby boy way too small,
A cold time. It was during the winter snowfall.
They struggled with their boy and he survived,
His laughter as he grew made her feel alive.
“Oh love you still have my heart, I miss you so,
How can I leave here?” And her tears flowed.
She rose from the chair her body stiff and sore,
Baby steps again as she headed for the door.
Once inside she walked to the bedroom then turned away,
She headed for the couch and that is where she stayed.
She could not stop the tears she had no desire to do so,
Release. Sweet release as her pent up emotions let go.
How could they send her to a home far away?
How could her children desert her this way?
She has a home. It is paid for, she can do baby steps,
She cannot even remember how long she slept.
Upon awakening her body creaked and groaned,
Looking around she realized she was no longer alone.
Sitting up her anger and rage, many mixed emotions.
Many years she had shown her family loyalty and devotion.
She was not going anywhere she would struggle and fight,
She would stay here forever because it was her right.
Her children had seen her treasures, her tear stained face,
And knew they could not remove her from this place.
They would work something out get her a companion or friend,
Tears of joy, for her new beginning, would never end.
© Cynthia Clark