“Thank you Jamie!”
Lorraine says as I set her
silverware at her spot—
always the fourth booth on
the left. I catch the eye of
the server beside me.
“Jamie?” she whispers
eyebrows arched.
Lorraine used to know my
name. She asked me on
my first day, then limped
off down the aisle to show
me her favorite booth.
Now she has renamed
me, and I can’t bring
myself to correct her, she
whose memories are fading,
but whose kindness is radiant.