The call came just
after breakfast.
‘Right,’ I said,
briskly, ‘I’m on my way.’
But first I called
Maureen, our friend,
who always said, ‘When
that time comes,
if you need me to be
there with you, I will.’
I had not expected to
need or want her —
her or anyone — but
when the time came,
yes I did. I’ll never know whether she had
any other plans that
day. She just came.
I arrived first; it
was so close to home.
I was used to popping
in and out.
I had time to whisper
some messages
just between him and
me. I knew he could hear
though his eyes were
closed, and I knew
he understood me. Perhaps
he would have
even without help —
very probably—
but I used direct
telepathy, just to make
perfectly certain. (We
Reiki Masters have ways.)
‘We’ll find you a
private room,’ they said,
and did. When did
Maureen arrive? About then.
Hard to remember that
detail exactly, and of course
it doesn’t really
matter. She arrived, kissed him
(did she? I think she
did) and sat down
in the chair on the
other side of the bed.
We were both calm in
our demeanour.
We talked in low
voices, to and about him.
I held his hand.… And so that long, quiet day began.
I held his hand.… And so that long, quiet day began.
31 Poems in 31 Days (Poewar / Writer's Resource Center). Prompt: Write about a real moment in your life without discussing its larger meaning.
Also submitted for Poets United's Midweek Motif: One Day in the Life of
I like what you say here, and hear what you don't say. I know this was a sad day.
ReplyDeleteYes.
DeleteI'm glad you heard the unsaid too.
Rosemary, this poem goes STRAIGHT to my heart. How calm and dignified we are at such moments, all of our energy focused on helping our loved ones through their passages. I love the private messages, underscored by telepathy to make sure.
ReplyDeleteYes, an occasion to rise to.
Deletethere is strength in silence and comfort in holding hands
ReplyDeleteThere is.
DeleteOh! Enough said to know, to guess, the day, that day .. and then yes, thatt is how it is that day ...being there for each other whether the one in bed is healing into life or into death. Bravo! And thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank YOU, Susan.
DeleteWhat a hard day, but it is good that you were there and also had a friend beside you.
ReplyDeleteIndeed yes. It may sound strange, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss it.
DeleteSometimes when you read a poem like this which echoes your own experience there is really is nothing to say, nothing to add.
ReplyDeleteAh, and when one reads a comment like that too. Blessings.
DeleteWe function from the heart at such times and this poem is deep inside that. Reminding me so much of Jean's passing when I and mum were by her in the hospital, before and at the end. It is such a profound privilege to find oneself in such a situation. A Blessing.
ReplyDeleteIt surely is.
DeleteThere is so much dignity in this piece - and the way this 'special' (and I use the word I hope respectfully) day was passed
ReplyDeleteThank you. Your comment is both respectful and perceptive.
DeleteIt is in those quiet moments so much is said...
ReplyDeleteThank you for commenting, Leslie. I could not find your poem to return the compliment; the link led to a 'page not found' message.
Delete