Glimpses Of My Mom Poem by Richard Randolph

'Who are you? ' she asks.
'I'm Rick, ' I say.
'That's funny, ' she says. 'I have a son named Rick.'
She stares at me.
'You look something like him.'
'Mom, I'm your son Rick.'
'Oh, my Rick! ' she exclaims.
She reaches out her hand, and I take it gently.
It's cold and I can see blue veins just beneath the skin.
'How are you doing, Mom? '
'I'm all right, ' she asserts, nodding her head.
'Are the people here treating you okay? '
'They're mostly nice, ' she answers, glancing at the nurse.
Then she notices my wife and daughter standing at the door.
'That's Joyce, my wife, remember? And that's Julia.'
'I'm going home in a few days, ' she tells them.
'I have to see the doctor, and then I'm going home,
and once I'm home, I'm never leaving it again.'
She laughs, and I laugh too,
and then she closes her eyes,
and when she opens them again,
she looks puzzled and slightly afraid.
'Who are you? ' she asks.
'Mom, ' I say, 'I'm Rick, your son.'