Abbie Bradfield Mulvihill

Memories

My mom says everyone tells her she should be happy
She has her memories, but she says the past just makes her
Sad.

At lunch we sit with a woman who says she can’t
Remember anything. She says every minute is completely
New. She has no idea what she just said so she’s afraid
To speak for fear she’ll repeat herself. She says she can’t
Remember anyone’s names. I tell her I can’t remember
Her name. It feels liberating but rude to say this aloud.
My mom shouts out the woman’s name to me.

I tell my mom she needs to live in the moment, in the here
And now. I tell her to focus on the present and stop worrying
About the future. She tells me she can’t.

My father lives nowhere, not in the past, present, nor future. He
Is shocked that it’s the afternoon. He slept all morning. I tell him
He was sick this morning. He doesn’t remember. He lives
In the moment, but not our moment. Not with us.

 

---

Abbie Bradfield Mulvihill grew up in the Chicago area, received a BA from the University of Colorado, Boulder, and has been working and writing in the Washington, DC area for over 36 years. Abbie began publishing her poems in 2022. Her poems have been published in The Best American Poetry’s “Pick of the Week,” Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Innisfree Poetry Journal, and Uppagus. Additionally, one of Abbie’s poems will be featured in a forthcoming edition of The Main Street Rag.