ion trace a path from Patricia McKernon Runkle's childhood to her mother's young womanhood and eventual decline into dementia. They hold the sorrow of losing her to "the long silence of falling" and the wonder of a flawless presence amid the wreckage of memory loss. For even when her mother's memory had seemed to vanish, she had flashes of lucidity when she was unmistakably herself. In To the You Who Used to Be, Runkle becomes a witness and companion as she explores loss and wholeness in the distilled wisdom of free verse and the crystalline brevity of haiku.