One Month Since Passing.

It's been over a month since my dear Dad passed away. His rapid progression and death was unexpected. Well technically the signs were there. He had a significant slope downward in his health and we had been forewarned that week by our hospice nurses that he was in a declined state, but to me the progressions moved slowly since I was with him nearly 24 hours per day and I couldn't see the subtle changes. Dad leaving me was the farthest thing from my mind. I just did what I had always done from the beginning: buck up and do what needed to be done so that Dad was comfortable and not in pain. But the signs were there–perhaps we the caregivers were a bit myopic in our scope because of the intensity of the caregiving. In the broader picture, we perhaps should have prepared for an obituary in advance. But in the midst of intense caregiving, who thinks of these things? Well the time came. He departed us here on Earth, his light extinguished as fast as a candle on a windy night. That evening he was there, I rested for half an hour, and he was gone.

Hour Glass Sands

My time with you,
is like hourglass sand.
I can see your sand,
me, watching desperately
helpless from the other side
of the hourglass; and you–
slipping away slowly
right before my very eyes.
I bear your witness,
strong for you but
suffering inside, watching
until the last grain
of your hourglass sand
falls into the abyss.

The deafening silence
loud enough to break
that glass in pieces
because our souls cry
out to have you back,
but not like that,
just not like that.

I envision that place
where your soul went–
the glass empty
and you, in no pain.
I see the glass and the sand
overturned, and you
whole.

In Paradise, whole.

© DAR 2012.  All rights reserved.