A patio set

I am participating in the
 Slice of Life.  
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, 
on Tuesdays.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

My Dad, 90 years old next week, was recently moved into a nursing home, due to complications from Parkinson's. My Mom died last October. This summer, we finished emptying my Dad and Mom's house, and then we drove a U-haul filled with treasured belongings from their house in Maine to my home in Maryland. This poem is about one of those treasures, a patio set, that now resides at my house.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
a place for them to be,

a gift of love just a few years back,
to welcome them
to their new home in Maine.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
easing them into

a small home with caregivers, after
the abrupt end of their life in the south, 

in a coastal paradise. 

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
meant to help them adjust
to less independence,

a place for them to be,
in hopes of helping them feel more at home,
to remind them of the beach and the sea.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
we hoped they'd spend years
sitting, enjoying the birds and the trees,
surrounded by their
cherished photos,
familiar trinkets,
loving family.

Not to be, not to be.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
is now my place to be.

Although not an an heirloom or antique,

instead, purchased for them

recently,

it is lush with meaning.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
reminds in the midst of birds and trees,

of strong and fragile,

of living, breathing, loving,
of all that is possible and might not,
of how things change.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
new to me, meant to be.