O-ut
L-ived
D-esire

Ever since I was a little girl, I never called anyone old.
I referred to older people as elderly.
One day, out of nowhere I decided that a person is "old" when they reach the age of 70.
My grandmother, who I call nana turned 70 last year.
Now I am morally allowed to call her old in my mind.
She thinks it's hilarious and she loved her mockery of a cake!

All jokes aside though, being "old" scares me. As I'm sure it scares many. To me "old" means; out lived desire. The desire to live becomes almost invisible; non existent. My mother is fighting two battles. Mental and physical. The mental aspect of her brain is fueled by her children's emotions and her physical pain. She is constantly worrying about her children and if they are okay mentally and physically. She has had her share of mistakes but she will always be my momma. Her physical battle consumes her whole body. Pain 24/7 with little to no relief. She is a strong women but because of her mental battle all her life, her body is that of an older woman. Medicine only goes so far and sometimes it feels like my prayers hit the ceiling and fall. My mom is not "old" but sometimes I feel like she "out lived desire." She continues to fight these two battles with a smile on her face [most days.]

Today you are 18,036 days old, but today, you are stronger, braver, and wiser than when you were 18,035 days old!!!

My mum got a call
I wasn't supposed to listen
But I did
You have passed away
Hopefully without pain
Shes still on the phone
Not knowing that I know
I cant let her know
That Im choking back these tears
Why is everyone
Leaving this Earth
This year
I know you were old
And I know I have never seen you
Because you live so far away
But I love you dearly and I hope you are okay
I love you my nana
And forever will

I took a walk down a sloping path
Trees and brambles, nature’s bloodbath

My hands, a guide
My eyes, a map
My mouth, drooling and drawn to that amber sap

The ground below finally led me there
A trusted fort, a quiet town square
A lonely whistle serenading the unsoiled air

A symmetrical tree sat waiting like a snare
For me to take its’ paragon
But, oh, do I even dare?

She has a pretty smile,
That goes on for a while
Her teeth are really white,
Some might say what a sight
She is always quick to hug & kiss,
When she's away, I really miss
When I am hurt, she cares so much
She always has that special touch
She quit her job when I was a baby,
So she could play & watch me daily
Brownies, cookies, candy, & cakes,
My Nana really loves to bake
For her job, homes she cleans,
Her clients love her so much they scream!
There really is no test,
My Nana is the very best

time to say goodbye, they say
ten years and counting—
eleven after May

you never get over the loved ones you lose
the pain just fades a little,
like the bump leaving the bruise

you're a scar on my broken heart,
permanent and painful
but i love you like art

time to say goodbye, they said
nearly eleven years
nana, why'd you have to be dead?

they told me to move on so gouge out my eyes,
I'm tired of being subjected
to seeing a world where you're not alive