Tag Archives: remembering

I. Will. Never. Forget.

wedding day

 

I lay facing my sleeping husband in the bright moonlight.  It was nearly as bright in the room as if we’d left a light on.  As usual, at least one part of our bodies was touching…no matter the size of the bed, we found each other.  In this case our knees were touching.  I stared into his face – so brightly illuminated, and listened to his gentle snores.

I traced his features with my fingertips, over and over, as if trying to memorize them.  The scars from skin cancer removals and drunken teenage car wrecks…the wiry eyebrows I had promised to trim but somehow had neglected to find the time to attend to.  The smooth upper lip that had carried the moustache for so many years that I loved – but that he had come to hate.  The lips I had kissed countless times.  I knew every pore, every scar, every inch but I kept tracing, studying, reveling in his face so close to mine.  He opened his eyes briefly and looked into mine.  “You’ll never forget me” he said and gently kissed me…and we fell asleep.

Thirty-six hours later I lay next to my husband in the grassy median of I-80 in Nebraska, under a clear blue sky in the warm sunshine, as paramedics worked frantically over him.  I held his hand and looked for the last time at the face I had loved so much for so many years.  I whispered my goodbye, and promised never to forget.  And I never will.

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We Can Never Be the Same

ON THE GROUND

Off

to work

Or to School

Just a Tuesday

They started their days

Unaware of the fate

That lay before them all

Crashes, fires and explosions

Towers turned to rubble and dust

Offices burned, bodies and screams

Many lives lost; Survivors broken, too.

IN THE AIR

They

boarded

flights as planned.

Travellers all

Not knowing the plans

that would end in horror.

Their destinations unknown

to them, known only to black hearts.

At the moment of impact, did they know

Their legacy would be sad history?

THE HEROES

They

rushed in.

Desperate

to find and save

the living; locate

the lost. Pushing forward

until all hope was gone.  They could

not save their own. Hearts heavy, brothers

gone forever, but not forgotten

Sacrifice, shattered lives their legacy.

THE REST OF US

We

watched

in horror.

Not believing.

Not comprehending.

We can’t watch, can’t turn away.

Loved ones missing, injured, or gone.

Hearts broken, dreams crushed, sorrow hangs

heavy over us, our world is changed.

And we know, we can never be the same.

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It’s June 8 and My Mom is Still Gone

I was getting dressed for a wedding when I got the call.  My husband and son were in the wedding party – they were getting into their tuxes…I was standing there in my slip.  “You’d better get here” my sister said into the phone “if you want to say goodbye”.

Get there I did, alone.  I drove, weeping all the way, knowing that it was really going to happen.  My mother had cancer.  Colon cancer that had spread.  Everywhere.  She suffered horrible pain.  Still, I did not want her to go.

One of my tires threw a steel belt on the drive.  It thumped, thumped, thumped…I did not stop to change it, but drove on, weeping.  At the hospital I sat by her bed, holding her hand until she briefly roused.

“You came”, she said weakly.

“Of course”, I said, squeezing her thin hand – which once had looked so much like my own.  Stong, capable, with stubby puffy fingers and rings too tight.  Now her rings spun around her spindly fingers, tendons visible probably for the first time in her life.

“Where is Eric” she asked, inquiring as to the whereabouts of her first grandchild.

“In a wedding”, I said.

“I’m so sorry”, she said.  So like her to apologize for inconveniencing anyone.  She slept some more; I wept some more.

“I see horses,” she whispered.  “They’ve got wings.”

“I love you, Mom” I leaned close and whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too”.

I left the room then.  In the hallway my youngest brother (7 years old) asked my step-father when they could take Mommy home again.  More weeping.  I kept walking.  And walking.  I walked the halls most of the night, refusing to leave even when my husband and son showed up after the wedding and reception.

My mother died early the next morning.  I miss her every day.  Especially every June 8.

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