Nursing Home

She calls you "darlin" as she changes your diaper, one more before her shift ends,
But she'll never know the babies only your arms could soothe.
She quickly glances away from sad sedated eyes- glassy stare-   mirrors of a distant time.
She never saw them sparkle as you sang to a little girl with a long braid.
She posies you to your wheelchair and trembling old hands reach out for something or someone no longer there.
If only she could see the beautiful lace dresses those hands made for a little girl's dolls.
She brings you a tray, nutritionally sound, as bland as the wax paper that covers it.
No more chocolate milkshakes that you love, sneaking sips when no one was looking.
She humors mild requests and feeble talk as you repeat yourself--.mindless muttering,
Ah, but she never saw the wink in your eye or heard the quick wit in your reply.

She is efficient and thorough and not without kindness.
She knows your name,  and your medication schedule.
She is your caretaker, but she knows not who you are.

Oh Grandmother.