When my mom turns sixty-five, she takes a trip
around the country to see each of her children,
a goodbye journey to face what she thinks will be
her last few years.
All four of her children are still alive then
but soon after the trip her first and second son die
while she thrives, teaching till ninety
and living all the way to ninety-seven.
My mother was fond of saying, “You never know
whose tomorrow it is,” pointing her finger
to emphasize each word, and she’s right.
You never know.