Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Grief

“Please wait, Mom!”
As I drove furiously to the hospital,
Willing my truck to fly,
I was begging my mom not to die.
“Lord, please, let me get there in time!”
Desperation.
“Why did I leave her alone last night?”
Of course, I couldn’t have known.
Last night her breathing sounded easier than it had in days.
Pneumonia.
I hate that word!

Finally, I arrive.
I rush my way to the ER.
Jack comes to greet me.
His face stricken with the look that says to me,
“She is gone.”
Jack and the doctor lead me to the room where she lies.
We stand together, looking at the shell that once held my precious mom.

Inside, my head, I am screaming “Go away!  Leave me alone!”
I want to throw myself across her body and sob and cry and moan.

But we stand there in silence.
“Well, that’s that.” I calmly say.
We turn and walk away.
I hear my mother’s voice, “You know that I’m not here.”
And my head knows she’s right.
But my heart is not ready to say goodbye.