Frail, tired, weak, so small
Parkinson's has stolen it all
She seems more peaceful when she finds sleep
The tremors slow and I don't hear her weep
Where is the Mom who held me so tight?
She was the one who could make things right
Her great-grandchild is due and should be here soon
Will they pass in the night by the light of the moon?
Is that how we make the circle complete?
As they pass to new realms and they quietly meet.