Back Then

by Teddi Scobi

My mother used to walk over to her fathers house, the farm.
To check on Marie, my grandfathers second wife.

Marie used to wear two dresses at once.
When I think about it, it was dementia, or whatever you will.

It was what it was, there were no websites to advise, no template.

Grammy had died. Grampa T remarried. Marie, a slight woman, who lost the grip.

Marie never made cookies, or smoked on the front porch, like Grammy used to do.

Yet, my mother traipsed over there. Cleaned up, and walked home.

Not a saint, just a thing to do, back then.