I haven’t done this before, and it’s still hard, but this is a few words in remembrance of this day fourteen years ago when my mother died.
This day was dark
That saw me fly to my mother’s side,
To hold a hand that did not know mine.
So quick her bird flew,
So hard to find the thoughts among the tears.
She had already gone,
Retreated to the place of half-being,
One foot in the doorway,
One hand reaching out to those beyond.
In her steady heartbeat
I heard the whispered words,
All the words left unsaid,
That would never now be spoken.
Tears could not open those lips,
Loosen that garrulous tongue.
The clock ticked but time had fled.
Were you there, Dad, to take her hand
And lead her through to the other side?
Did you give her that lop-sided smile and ask,
‘What kept you?’
I like to think you were,
She could never find her way without you,