NUESTROS PESAMES ON THE DEATH OF TONY YZAGUIRRE'S MOM

For years he knew the end would come

Sometime soon

That the human body

After years of toil and troubles

Tires, breaks down

That it was rational, pragmatic and real

That she would fade someday

Into that long, dark field

That he should plan,

Make the arrangements,

Pre-pay

For that day

After all it had been 90-odd-plus

Years that she had lived

Raised him and the others,

Outlived her mate

And he didn't want her 

Alone,

In an empty home

Accompanied only

By ghosts of an earlier date

Pictures of him

And his siblings

At various stages of their lives

 From the first day of school

To proms, beach outings to Boca Chica, cars...

And buried dead

And then grandkids

Starting the circle...

Over again

Just yesterday they talked

As he spoon-fed her her dinner

Which he did often 

At the home

About Tio Rene

And her bisnietos, his daughter's kids

Her mind still sharp

On names and family deeds

And he had left

As she quietly slept

And then the news arrived

As dawn broke in the East

That she had stayed 

In her eternal sleep

For years

He thought he was prepared

But his throat tightened, and 

His chest heaved, long and deep

Crushing his heart

And couldn't breathe...

And even the sunrise failed

And could not see

And she was singing him to sleep

In the gathering dusk...

Warm

With her soft quiet

lullaby

"Arrorró mi niño, duermeteme ya..."

Se murio la jefa.

His mom had died.