a thousand goodbyes

my mother used to say,
don't ever
put me in one of those homes
if I get sick.
promise me.
promise me.
we all nodded and agreed.
but she was young then,
full of herself.
her hair still black
and full.
she ended up spending the last
four years
of her life
in the exact homes
she didn't want to be in.
strangers
in a strange land
gathered around a television.
three meals.
a shower.
a bed.
a window to look out.
dark and dreary would be
an understatement.
then she shut down and never
spoke again.
but her brown eyes, watery
and blinking
said everything
when we came to say
a thousand goodbyes.