He Was the One Looking After Me

He was the one looking after me

again, tonight, when I wept.

It was time to tell the truth.

Just the two of us 

quietly companionable,

reading the Sunday papers

almost as if we were home;

our heads close together,

the ward for once peaceful.

‘Do you get lonely at night?’ he asked.

‘Well I have the cats,’ I said, 

then paused and blurted, 

‘To tell you the honest, yes I do,’

and burst into tears. ‘But I can’t

take care of you any more, darling.

It’s become too much for me

to manage on my own.’

He nestled my head on his shoulder,

put one arm around me, with the other

stroked my hair — so gently, I felt 

my hair was golden silk.

It will be all right,’ he said.

‘You must do what’s best for you.’

We’d already talked of ‘the new place’

and when he’d be moving there.

He was getting jack of the hospital,

looking forward to leaving.

And so I said the rest: 

‘It’s temporary now, because that

was already authorised, but it will

become permanent. Unless you really 

hate it; then we’d find another place.’

I promised I’d bring him back home 

to visit, even stay overnight — 

when the kids can fly up for a weekend

(or any one of them) and assist;

afraid now to try on my own.

He held me untiI I was calm.

‘Drive safely,’ he said when I left.

‘I love you,’ we both said.

April PAD Challenge #29: Take a favorite line or image from an earlier poem this month and re-work it into a new poem. This title is a line from my Day 21 poem, Taking the Obs.