Those strange days
My head spins as I remember those days
as we ran and spun around the crisis,
powerless to evade the calamity,
stressed with things to do, people to call,
mess to clean, decisions to make,
when really there was nothing to do
but wait and watch and hold each other
and hold her hand and watch her breathe (or not),
and wince with her pain and grieve for her smile
when it drowned in drugged sleep
and hope in vain for one more word, one more touch.
Such strange days, those letting go days,
holding a space of farewell, being a strange family
around that bed, that woman,
held by her love for us and our love for her.
Oh honey, how I wished for more time
but you were gone so soon, in such few days, those strange days.
My head spins as I remember those days
as we ran and spun around the crisis,
powerless to evade the calamity,
stressed with things to do, people to call,
mess to clean, decisions to make,
when really there was nothing to do
but wait and watch and hold each other
and hold her hand and watch her breathe (or not),
and wince with her pain and grieve for her smile
when it drowned in drugged sleep
and hope in vain for one more word, one more touch.
Such strange days, those letting go days,
holding a space of farewell, being a strange family
around that bed, that woman,
held by her love for us and our love for her.
Oh honey, how I wished for more time
but you were gone so soon, in such few days, those strange days.
