A slow turn of her head away from me,
Her eyes gazing at nothing in particular.
She turns back and with a brave face says,
'This may be something really bad.'
'Yes, it may.' I reply.
'It came on so fast. It may get worse real fast.'
'That may be'. I was about to soften my response,
When, tears welling, she whispers haltingly
'I need to talk to you'.
I knew she meant on a deeper level, about life,
And death, and soul-deep companionship…
The one subject of conversation some of us
Try to avoid until we can no longer.
She teared up, and had trouble selecting the words.
'What is it you want to say? ' 'I want to tell you…'
Then the tears flowed again, and the sobs were heavy.
I spoke, sensing her difficulty trying
To basically convey I-love-you's
In a most convincing manner, for one of the last times.
We'll have a while longer, I thought, to probe further,
But for now, in the semi-private mood
Of a hospital room, we need to take the first
Of those heavy-footed steps toward finality,
Wishing all the while, of course,
That her God will breathe one more miracle
Into her laboring lungs and
Give us a lot longer together.
I looked as deeply into her blue eyes as I ever had,
Focused upon connecting soul to soul,
'Deb, if I were to die driving in the snow
On the way home tonight, would you be able
To understand the depth of my love,
How much you mean to me? ' 'Yes, I would. Of course.'
'Then there is no need for you
To try to make sure I understand,
Or to try to search for the right words
To express how you feel about me.
Our lives together have expressed that completely.'
'I'd like to think that.'
'Then do. Please. It's true, and it's always been true,
Since Day 1. It is you
Who have taught me to care and to love.'
Tears flowed aplenty from two foreheads gently touching.
Topic(s) of this poem: dying
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.