Filling in the spaces

I can never resist
singing the Joe Scruggs version of
"This Little Piggy"when giving my mother-in-law
(what a funny name for someone you love)
a foot massage, tugging her toes,
one by one until the last little piggy.

The same song I sang to
my babies, a long time ago.
I wonder if she sang a similar
song to her children, an even longer time ago?

Remembering is harder these days.
Sometimes when we talk
it's like she gives me the dots,
little glimpses of her past,
and I have to draw the lines between.

The end result might not be an
accurate rendering of her life.

But here's the thing -
it's still a beautiful picture.