Spending time with my mother and continuing to deal with the responsibilities of my own two sons has brought to mind this poem by Leonard Cohen:
My Mother Asleep
By Leonard Cohen
remembering my mother
at a theatre in Athens
thirty
thirty-five years ago
a revue by Theodorakis
those great songs
she fell asleep
in the chair beside mine
in the open-air theatre
she had arrived that day
from Montreal
and the play started close to midnight
and she slept through
the mandolins
the climbing harmonies
and the great songs
I was young
I hadn’t had my children
I didn’t know how far away
your love could be
I didn’t know how
tired you could get
