Tippy

When mom fell at home and broke her leg,

she was moved to a rehab facility.

We knew at 92 she’d never return home

and suspect dad knew, too.

He insisted we move them into a facility

where he lived on one floor

and mom on another.

Their little dog, Tippy,

went to live with my brother.

Occasionally, my brother

would take the dog to visit them.

Dad, like a kid at show & tell

would parade around with his dog.

Dad died five mothers later,

mom in the spring.

My brother bought their house

and Tippy returned to live there.

I imagine him going to the kitchen

looking for treats,

climbing up in a living room chair

waiting for an old man

who never returned.

I wondered

if he dreamed of mom and dad

and if they comforted him

while he slept.

2-12-23