Yesterday,
At the home,
Not her home,
I found her sleeping
Lying soft upon the mattress
Curled up fetally on her left side,
As almost always for 40 years past.
I had forgotten, utterly
the soft heaving of her breast,
I had forgotten, totally
that stone-calm face
hiding a hundred hurts and a thousand worries.
I lay down,
Wrapping my right arm about her,
Nuzzling my face into the back of her neck,
Pressing aging legs against withering ones,
As almost always before the great betrayal,
As almost always for the last 40 years.
Her breathing deepens,
Her heartbeat slows,
Her body, unforgetting, moves closer to mine.
At peace, she murmurs gently.
The unsteady heartbeat is mine,
The labored breathing is mine,
The wetness on the nape of her neck,
The wetness blurring my vision and burning my eyes
Is mine.
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Thank you, Mr. Mussomeli. Not an hour ago I visited my mother at her new home, repeating news again as if it were news, again. I grasp at the moments of lucidity and pray God gives me strength and her peace.
Surely this poem was a providence.
Dear Harry, It would give me great joy if my poem was of any value to you. When I placed my wife in her new “home” last August, I thought I would not recover. For weeks afterward, I was overcome with not just grief, but overwhelming guilt, both that I had placed her there and that I was already growing weary of visiting her. A close Slovene friend showed me the path out of my hell. She said I should never visit Sharon just because I felt bad for her or felt obliged to do so. Instead, she urged me to relax and to go visit her joyfully, acting as if each visit were a date and that I was finally able to just love her as I did 40 years ago. It has made all the difference. I now rarely miss a day (much easier for me since I am retired) and I look forward to seeing her just like when we first met each other.
Thank you for baring your breaking heart.
Sob….the long… fading…. longingly… goodbye, …
Beautifully written. He or she is surely a blessed soul who is faithfully loved though so absent in mind.
There is a blessing in long good-byes for the caring family who can slowly adjust to the departure of a loved one and a tranquil and gentle transition to the other side of the veil by the person with memory loss.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for living life so well.
Thank you for sharing this deeply moving message of love and commitment, and growth, and understanding, …. and pain, and joy, and life, and….
I simply cannot convey how this has touched my heart. I am sharing this far and wide, for this is “ the important stuff.” This is life, rightly lived. Would that we all knew life this well, even when the pain is beyond understanding. God’s blessings upon you and your wife. Thank you, thank you, thank you……..
As you responded to Harry, above, please know joy in your heart, for yes, your words are of immeasurable value to all who read them.
Heart-breaking and beautiful.
Thank you for sharing.