One More For The Road
There’s no beeping like there would normally be in a hospital
Just her shallow breath
As the respirator helps her
She can’t pee on her own
Her cheeks are shallow, just like her breath
Blink once if you can hear me
If he was here
He’d be yelling all over the place
Nothing would be good enough for her
The transfer to the new hospital center would NOT be acceptable
She would need her own room, and not share it with two other people dying
I was in denial
We are strong
Us Claire’s always were
So it is obvious that she was going to make it through this
By the tenth day
It is obvious that I am not going to make it through this
Uncontrollable tears
Gasping, not being able to let go
Of my mom
Snot covering her
Luckily mother had on a gown
I did not want to let go of her hands
Hands that always comforted me
Or accidentally pulled down my pants when I did something wrong
Or slap-tapped me when I said something inappropriate
She needed a good shave
He had always done that for her
Only in the last ten years of her life though
Stubbly, dark, course, was her chin
Little hairs shooting out, not matching the hair on her head, or her arms
One hand wrapped around a teddy bear
The mixed teddy bear, the shared teddy bear
Little pieces from different parts of the family
The Yankee shirt from my mom
The teddy bear from my sister
Something borrowed, something spent
But she loves the Yankees
One more picture to hold the memory
Whiskey!
But we won’t hear her laugh
When we shout that as we take the picture
She was always the first one to do everything, right?
Strong, letting me take one of my grandfather’s precious lollipops from the freezer
And giving herself the blame
To face the repercussions, the wrath of my grandfather
The one that zoomed up the hill
With its many bumps and rocks, to pick up my mom from work
That ended in flat tires and calling triple A during a huge storm, but at least we made it to the bank
She was valedictorian of her night classes