It is hard to predict why some Aprils work and others don’t. One of my best years for the April Poetry Challenge was the year my mother died, although I did not know that then. What I did know was that she was taking almost as many hours as my job, even in a care facility. I didn’t grudge that time, but there were times I had to say no, like the time I was in heavy grading mode and there was a flood between me and her. She wanted me to come right away because the nurse would not come and get down a fresh pack of Depends from over the closet, saying that she had plenty. She was very upset when I tried to tell her it’s more than just raining–the road is closed and people are supposed to stay at home. I promised to call the desk for her and did, something that made me look like a fool but was somewhat less foolish than the runs to the facility when her hallucinations (from congestive heart failure, something no one warns you about) made her seek her own justice.
That April was possibly the best challenge ever. (more…)