(My father died of lung cancer several years ago.
Some things are worth remembering...)


His walk unsteady, hesitant
I really want to help
but silently I sit and wait…………..
Until he asks

You really shouldn’t carry 
that cup of coffee
while walking with the metal bars.
The drops are spilled 
        and quietly I clean them up.

Cigarettes are plentiful
and the coughing must be tough.
The phlegm gets stuck, the blood jars loose
the butts and ashes quickly swept away.
I wash my hair and hold my breath
…..as lazy circles fill the air
…………to disappear and yet remain.

To sleep or not to sleep…..
The thud from where he rests,
as getting up a hundred times
     the bathroom light goes on.
I go out quickly anyway to hear
the uneasy voice say I’m ok.

My suggestions faintly settle
each, caressing gently good ideas
that will eventually take root,
but at his direction, his dictates.
What seems so logical and expedient to me,
    must be cut out 
      and served in smaller doses,
and slower time.

A community of services,
and he takes a few.
Medication to relieve the pain,
and he chooses to ignore…
to be alert and fighting,
rather than abler and painfree.

To be allowed to give this life
the final touch……..
His signature
    on a masterpiece of work and love;
questions and discovery;
To do things his way until the end,
Is the greatest gift I have to give…….


In loving memory....
Deb

e-mail: spearmint100@yahoo.com

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