Love Doesn't End With Death
Love doesn’t end with death, Mother
Said. A few days had gone since Father’s
Demise and you stood in their room
While she sat on her bed and did her hair.
She stopped in mid brush and cried.
I wish it was me, you said, at least then
You’d still have him to love. She looked
Round at you and said, then I’d be grieving
For you. It’s still grief no matter who
Goes or stays, she said. She wiped her
Eyes and brushed her hair once more
Looking at herself in the mirror. We never
Appreciate the time we have with people
Until they’ve gone, she muttered, half to
Herself and half to you. Ordinary days are
Best because they’re more plentiful,
She continued, looking at you through
The mirror’s view. You noticed the first grey
Hairs appearing where she’d brushed last,
Sitting there amongst hairs brunette.
Now she sits unaware of days gone by
Or grief; dementia’s done its work so well
That all is wiped clean from brain and head.
She’s unaware of being alive herself let
Alone Father not being there or being dead.
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