Elderly Powerhouses

Grandfather

Wrinkle-wrapped
in good excuses
for sitting still,
he spreads mulch,
climbs ladders,
might run Boston
to the dismay of
his worn-out children.


"I wish my father were around so I could worry about him," says Virginia, "and continue to do section hikes with him."  (Virginia's father died of a heart attack when she was young.)

"Me, too," I say.  "I'm glad I have my mother to worry about."

"I worry about mine, too," says Virginia, "but she doesn't worry about me.  Boy, I wish she could."  (Virginia's mother no longer recognizes her, or anyone else.)

"Go girl," I say to my mother.