Missing Memory on Memorial Day

Sweeping, bright blue sky, soft breeze, resplendent sunshine
People in pastels dotting the park, lounging on blankets
Children playing catch across the grass, dashing after wayward balls
Music drifting around the parties, parents chiding their kids
Dogwood, clover, peonies blooming, adding their perfume to the concoction of
Grass, charcoal smoke, sunscreen, and dog

I loop around the park, spring swirling in my nose and
Splashing in my eyes and singing in my ears,
Wishing you were out under the same sky, sitting on your patio,
Absorbed in a book, undisturbed by bumble bees buzzing by—
Free from your ailments, liberated from the hospital, body unfettered as your spirit
You’d smile and remark, “Isn’t it beautiful today?”

From the author: My Memorial Day was entirely different from my grandmother’s. I woke up to sunshine in Central Park; she woke up to fluorescent lights in the hospital. I was moving between the third and fourth years of medical school; she was moving between home and the hospital, followed by a physical rehabilitation center. She now resides in a nursing home. We make new memories together, on a different patio, out under the same sky once again.