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October Remembrance (Breast Cancer Month)


img_1489I watched a friend take her last breath today.

We prayed, ‘Hail Mary’ and the “Our Father’

Then she passed…

I miss her terribly.

Unfair, at least to my understanding now.

Unfair to me.

She was fried chicken,

Hometown laughter,

Short streets.

She was “riding around”,

Coca cola,

Music on the radio.

We talked of ‘new loves’,

With new hopes,

As we shared our dreams.

She was simpler times,

Long phone calls,

Sharing all…

She was late night rescue,

Stranded from dates

Gone bad.

She was laughter at oddity

Of pregnant bodies

And invisible feet…

She was death,

The painful recognition of

The ugliness of disease…

She was the beauty

Of the spirit, shinning past

All the let-downs of cancer…

She was a lifetime friend

You never ask for,

Only recognize a lifetime late…

As I sit by her bed,

Watching her breath,

And my tears are for me.

Copyrighted:   2016 CMMimg_1489

Table of Love


 

 

I think it was chocolate mahogany

 

                 large rounded carved ornate legs

 

                 coming down under the broad leaf table.

 

Grandma made the green gingham tablecloth spread across

 

over a protective plastic lining beneath.

 

 

Seven places for the family in the evening meal,

 

               three generations of grandparents, parent, children,

 

              head of the table Granddaddy sat quiet, not saying much.

 

At the other head, was Grandma; she would talk about the day.

 

Who did what when, and “lord, it is hot today.”

 

 

Mother sat in the middle of my little sister and me.

 

               She often didn’t say much, when she did, it was measured.

 

               My older sister sat across from me with her light brown hair,

 

blue eyes that never smiled.

 

Next to her, my brother, with his dark hair and light eyes,

 

glancing often to the criticism that came his way.

 

 

 

There was a lot of pain at the table at Grandma’s house.

 

                The pain was from the very person who was not present.

 

                 It was a gift of my father before he left …

 

The sun would set in the evening over the table of love.

 

But it didn’t take away the darkness that no one spoke about.

©  copyrighted:   2002 CMM