“The wind is us—it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.” ~ Truman Capote

Angel in Irish Cemetery
Photographer Unknown

                   

Things they never tell you:

How to resolve
the paradox of
watching someone take her last breath
when you have seen her take her first.

Things you wish you didn’t know:

How to clean your father
after
he’s soiled himself,
but begs you
not to call for help.

Things you wish you’d never seen:

Blood oozing
around
the edges of a scalpel
cutting into your daughter’s chest.

Things you wish you’d never overheard:

“They all throw up
after chemo. What
do you want me to do about it?”

Things you wish you’d never touched:

Your dead father’s eyelids
as he lay
in his coffin.

Things they tell you that are lies:

It won’t hurt
like this
forever.

Things you say that are untrue:

I’ve forgotten
how her skin smells.

Things you wish you could forget:

How
her skin smells.

Things you wish you could remember:

The sound of your father’s voice
before the morphine
consumed him

Things you wish you didn’t know (part two):

The names
of brain tumors
and medications
that can paralyze and infant.

Things that leave you hollow:

The emptiness
of a cemetery
on
a cloudy afternoon.

Things you can’t escape:

The last week in March
and
the first week in November

Things that haunt you still:

The sound a ventilator makes
in
a small white room.

Things that scar your heart:

Grief’s
pervasive sting.

Things that rend your spirit:

The passing of Halloween
and
the relentless onslaught of November.

Things that break your soul:

The interminable moments
between the final breath
and
the last heartbeat.

Things they never tell you (part two):

You will regret this decision
until
the last warm breath
leaves your lungs.

Things you wish you’d never said (part one):

It’s time.

Things you wish you’d never said (part two):

It’s time.

Things you’re glad you said:

It’s okay.
You can go now.

Things no one can truly know:

Sorrow
is an uncharitable
sea.

Things they never say:

Grief
is an
endless abyss.

L. Liwag
Monday, November 5, 2012

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