My Turn

This trip has shown me

I have little time left

With my dad

He is almost full care

The man who stepped in

When I was too young

To remember

Has been there ever since

And I am going to be 55

Next month

I don’t know how long I have

With him left

From the progression of his

Condition, maybe a year

At most.

When I talk to him

I see him in there,

And in a flicker

I see a scared child

Who doesn’t know

Or understand what’s going on.

Moments of clarity

Followed by utter confusion.

Today we stopped to get out of the van so he could use the restroom and we all could get some fresh air, stuff to munch

And drinks to sip on

I offer my arm for him

To steady himself

As soon as his hand

Wrapped around my forearm

He leaned over and said

“Now it’s your turn”

I looked at him and said

Almost with tears in my eyes

“Yes Poppa it is my turn”

He gripped my arm a little tighter, and leaned into me a little more, and smiled.

I am honored that its

“My turn”