Patricia Anne (1936 - 2006)
November for my mother her death a year ago and the white room off the ER reserved its barrenness its isolation beyond the pulse of IVs monitors struggle except for me suddenly alone wanting to leave wanting to touch
Discussion about this post
No posts
Grieving is a process and I believe the more we loved the longer it takes to hold that person 'clear against the sky'. Listen for her voice.
How did he know
How did he know
I needed a sign - something ephemeral -
to quell my wondering
Often
when it was still a game
we speculated about an after-life.
We promised to ‘ghost-contact’.
How did he know
I was ready
to hear his voice - as if in the next room -
calling me by name
Did he sense
on this first day of Spring
when new life abounds in promise
It would be easier for me.
Most likely, time no longer exists for him.
I am the one left to deal with the hours
and days of remembering.
Very poignant, man of aran. I can … imagine that feeling though I’ve yet to experience it for myself. 🙏