My mama renamed me
when I was in my early 50's.
She had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's,
and I was her live-in caregiver.

Sometimes she would call me
by my sister's first name,
and that would
just burn me up.

One such afternoon,
the name mix up
completely got the best of me,
and I blurted out,

"My name is Birdie, damnit!"
A strange look came over
my mama's face like I
had never seen before.

"Birdie Damnit," she whispered,
and that was just the beginning.
Every time I would stroll through
whatever room she happened to be in,

she would motion to me
and say, "Come here,
Birdie Damnit.  I
want to talk with you."

Well, it stuck.
I became the
infamous "Birdie Damnit,"
and nothing could change that.

No matter who dropped by
or where we went,
my mama always
referred to me as "Birdie Damnit."

Whenever I look at mama's photo,
I can still hear her calling me.
"Come here, Birdie Damnit,"
and I can't help but smile.