Make Myself Remember

I have to make myself remember
The skillful fingers that used to push
A needle through calico layers
Making the tiniest stitches
Intricate, patient designs
Around the square of a quilt
In her lap

I have to make myself remember
The beautiful mouth that used to laugh
With auburn head thrown back
Revealing her straight white teeth
Encircled by lips painted pink
From the gold tube of lipstick
In her purse

I have to make myself remember
The agile body that used to labor
All sweaty in garden sun
Looking for ripe cucumbers
Or weeding around marigolds
Then jumping into the pool
Clothes and all 

I have to make myself remember
The practical mind that used to offer
Wisdom to my young heart
Before a troublesome school day
“Give it to God and leave it,”
While quickly braiding my hair
At the mirror

I have to make myself remember
The resolute will that used to persevere
Packing up dishes in boxes
Wrapping them gently in paper
The ripping sound of tape
Another move across country
A new home

I have to make myself remember  
The clever artist that used to plan
A collage of pictures in frames
Laid out on the living room rug
Or an idea sketched on paper
For an elaborate cake
She would bake

I have to make myself remember
The handwriting that used to comfort
When I was away at school
Thirsty for something familiar
Pages of news and affection
Appearing like fresh water
In my mailbox

I have to make myself remember
The vibrant mother I used to know
Her fingers now fumble with pills
The body sleeps most of the day
And laughter now is scarce
Reality jumbled and twisted
In her head

And I wonder if she remembers
That this is not who she was
And in truth, it is not who she is
Hidden behind cloudy eyes
And the unrecognizing stare
But I will make myself
Remember