sinking feeling

when I ask myself , Who am I? I can answer so many ways.
that is not what this post is about.

This morning, not an hour ago, my mom said;
"Let me ask you something, Who am I?"
she does not read here, so she will not know how
terribly frightening it is for me to hear that question.

I told her she was my mom.
it was the best answer I had, and we went on to describe her
in terms of her name, and the five children who love her, and
the ways we will reduce confusion, by staying in her house,
by not making changes, by giving her the best possible daily routines.

So now when I ask, "who is David?" the best answer may just be:
I am my mother's son, and that is all I need to be today.

I suffered a huge ( unrelated) loss last night, so I am reeling
and still in a bit of shock. I guess that as the wind blows
and the snow starts to fly, you will hear the sound of Dr. Stihl
helping me to drown out the screams of agony and the moans of desperation.

Bring on the storm, I am strong enough to take it.
Hit me with the hardest weather, I will survive
I am my mothers son, and I learned a lot from my dad.
It is time to stand and not waver.