This post is dedicated to all of you who have struggled through the loss of a loved one long before he or she left this earth.
A MILLION GOODBYES
he lies with the sleeping woman;
her, curled up in a ball,
fragile, innocent like a child;
him, arms wrapped around her,
not to keep her warm,
but to protect her from the self
she lost years ago;
the self that was savagely taken away;
the self that loved the man lying next to her.
he looks at her,
remembering the decades spent together;
dances and dreams,
building and growing,
planning and dreaming,
loving and laughing,
and, yes, sometimes,
but not too often,
standing on different sides of the fence.
he is reluctant to wake her
from the only peace she now knows;
from the only peace he now knows.
he watched her through the worst part,
the finding out,
the realizing that she would lose
all of what she held dear.
but, he knows it is time so,
tenderly holding her hand, he calls to her.
he whispers, “darling, it’s a new day.”
she opens her eyes, then smiles at him for a moment—
a much too fleeting moment
that reminds him of the woman she was
before the forgetting,
before the losing of her history and her understanding,
before the losing of her ability to debate, to discuss,
before the losing of her life; the life she loved,
before the losing of her.
he helps her out of bed; puts her slippers on her feet.
he walks with her to the next room
then makes her tea and they sit together
in the same chairs they do each day
with a rhythm that never changes,
and he thanks God for that rhythm, because she is still with him.
she reaches for his hand, in a brief moment of knowing,
and whispers, “darling, it’s a new day.” ♥
From Poems & Random Thoughts About Life by Kay McLane
©2019 kay mclane, peace full home.com®/intentional living, 2013-2019.