Can a person be loved
When they can't talk, understand,
or bring a fork to their mouth?
When they cry or writhe in pain, quite frequently?
When they cry or writhe in pain, quite frequently?
When all of this happens often?
Is not the exception?
And this person is young
and this may last forever?
Can this person be an equal?
When this person gives,
but in a way they defies all conventional definitions?
Can we love them as they pass?
Even when their passing is long is drawn out --
[like most of us] [who gets to draw the line in the sand that separates living from dying, or dying from living]
Even when the signs and symptoms of leaving are more visible?
[like most of us] [who gets to draw the line in the sand that separates living from dying, or dying from living]
Even when the signs and symptoms of leaving are more visible?
I remember how my grandma passed more years ago than I can recall, but my connection with her has only grown.
I can still hear Professor Callan saying, "Death ends a life but not a relationship."
I think of my pup, who could never talk, and often cried, but gave in a way quite unparalleled.
I think of my grandma
as my body thrashes
for
1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6,
7,
8 hours
my mind leaves at times, catapulting me away from the pain,
I'm speaking a language no one seems to understand
My mom nods her head, she knows
But she can't always stay.
My grandma never leaves,
her hands squeeze mine
"Oh no dear..."
She knows it's a pain I can't handle anymore
And steady she stays
with gentle nods
I think of my grandma,
as I lie shaking,
yelling, and sometimes speaking in repitition
a language it seems no one else has been taught
some words it seems my mom understands
from a pain my brain has, communicating reptitive sounds no one can seem to understand, desperately afraid this will be only her constant companionship and her gentle nods and squeezes of my hand.
I think of my pup, who could never talk, and often cried, but gave in a way quite unparalleled.
I think of my grandma
as my body thrashes
for
1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6,
7,
8 hours
my mind leaves at times, catapulting me away from the pain,
I'm speaking a language no one seems to understand
My mom nods her head, she knows
But she can't always stay.
My grandma never leaves,
her hands squeeze mine
"Oh no dear..."
She knows it's a pain I can't handle anymore
And steady she stays
with gentle nods
I think of my grandma,
as I lie shaking,
yelling, and sometimes speaking in repitition
a language it seems no one else has been taught
some words it seems my mom understands
from a pain my brain has, communicating reptitive sounds no one can seem to understand, desperately afraid this will be only her constant companionship and her gentle nods and squeezes of my hand.
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