It’s out of focus!

All the things I thought I remembered from

those days are a blur,

Names and faces somehow indistinct,

separating memory from my imagination becomes

unnecessary some days and critical on others.

Mother says: “It didn’t happen that way,

No matter what you say. I was there.”

But, I protest, it’s right here in the picture.

Then She argues.

“It’s out of focus!

I made that cake long before you came home.” said Mother.

“What about the time we rode the train

From Baltimore and back again, I know

that memory is genuine, the conductor’s hat is

as real as yesterday!” I replied.

“Nope, we never rode the train together. It

may have been your grandmother and you.”

All the things I thought I remembered from

days gone by are a blur.

It’s out of focus.

Remembering a long, lost childhood is but a dream.

I’m old now, you are older yet.

Let us find a bridge we won’t forget.

Come, hold my arm, and steady your vision.

Life is fragile, love is eternal, memories are precious.

“Look, Mom, I see the bridge, don’t you?”

“Sorry, Daughter, it’s out of focus.”