As a writer, I'm always moving words around to make sense of my own experiences. My dad died a few years ago, and my mom isn't getting any younger. The speaker in this poem reflects on similar experiences, rendered as a Pantoum. I hope you enjoy this poem and others on Grand Little Things. Becoming an Adult After you finally achieve stability in middle age Your parents start to fall apart The airports are all eerily empty during the plague She squeezes your hand when she hea