Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Thesaurus of loss


Mistakenly I thought reaving meant tearing
ripping, sundering

apt for the torn ache in my chest.

It means robbery, plunder, deprivation, carrying off
theft, violence, ravaging

Ravage, damage, devastation

Also apt.

Words can't describe the searing sweet sadness of the weeks, days, hours

A common experience
commonplace and extraordinary
mundane routine unique and indescribable

plain and uncomplicated also incomprehensible.

I'm speechless and full of words.
Mute and verbose.

This is the hardest thing I have ever done.

I keep checking on you, like a child, watching your breathing.

Trying to fill a gaping chasm with paltries, trivialities, carings,
motherings, little offerings, show-and-tellings, trying to please,
a child myself

your child.

I want to snuggle up in your bed in the mornings
put my head in your lap in the afternoons

hold your shoulders while you vomit in the toilet
mix your pills with honey

Its ugly, it isn't poetic
It sure as hell isn't justice

I don't want to go through your wardrobe.
I don't want your little and generous bequests.

I want to bring you flowers every day hour
buy you clothes to fit your hatefully growing stomach
stroke your hair
hold your hand.

Hold tight, don't let go.

Swelling stomach and swollen legs
The fecundity of disease
Death mimics life.

Ugly beautiful
honey bitter
sharp and soft

grief cocoons and numbs, deadening
sensitizes, abrasive and raw

So much the hardest thing

Watching you
Dying while living
living while dying.