SALUTE TO THE CAREGIVER

When His Wife Becomes His Mother

Sometimes it seems the Golden Years, Are tarnished just a tad,
An aching joint - a cataract, Youth's energy we've had.
I'm fluffing up my empty nest, Young energy has gone,
Now geriatric motherhood, Keeps me moving on.
A loved one near and dear to me, Now needs my constant care,
It's geriatraic motherhood, A different hat to wear.
Maternal motherhood now takes, A wisdom only learned,
Through young and later motherhood, Degrees through years are earned.

In geriatric motherhood, No courses now are taught,
My macho warrior still wants speed, To rush his steps in walk.
And sometimes takes a tumble down, His shortcuts need a map,
Minesweeper now I must become, To clear the booby traps.
At first my aging battle cry, Was wrinkles and fatigue,
Surrendering to gravity, Now energy I need.
So maybe find a time for rest, Compose a little rhyme,
No - saw palmetto tea to serve, I'll nap another time.

Those leisure moments I deserve, But instincts die so hard,
More mothering is needed now, No time to be a bard.
Pill dispenser, therapist, A nurse, a budgeteer,
A memory jogger, taxi hop, And bills to pay all year.
How about a walker, "Not for me, A cane, that's just for schools."
To discipline the younger set, For me I'm past those rules."
We cross the street, "Don't take my hand, I balance better now,"
The automatic door swings wide, "I'm locked in somehow."

"Another enters and I'm freed, Just lead me to a chair,
And finish up the shopping fast, It gave me quite a scare."
The geriatric mother must, Nudge her man with care,
Guiding, coaxing, keeping safe, From dangers unaware.
So if some sage advice you wish, When seeking mates, or wives,
Choose a sweet and peaceful one, 'Twill help you to survive.