Gone Written in shadows Written in reflections Written in water on hot pavement Turning to steam Words Love Life Gone 11/15/16 This one came as a complete surprise. Chuck had his first hospitalization. We'd had to come back for tests , checkups and what I called "look sees", where the Dr. just wants to lay eyes on you. It was November and the weather was changing, and wet. Chuck was in the wheelchair with me pushing him, waiting in the vestibule for the valet to bring the car. The reflection of Chuck in the chair with me standing behind him was startling. He was the strong one. What am I doing pushing him of all people? The hospitalization had come suddenly. We were leaving for a natural mineral spa so he could soak his feet which had very large holes in them from the experimental drug. Chuck just couldn't get up that day, couldn't move, his color was ghastly. I will say this ...
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During the ordeal of Chucks' two hospitalizations I wrote poetry. He was fighting hard and I stayed at his side but was left with fears, questions, recriminations, anger, and helplessness. Hospital staff was there for him, visitors were there for him. I had friends come and I shared with them but there was usually so much information to transfer and I needed to be strong, to STAY strong. When the cracks in my resolve would seep in it would be he and I alone in his room, or as we were waiting for a test to begin/conclude, or rounds to begin/conclude, or nursing ministrations to begin/conclude. There were the many days when he was intubated and sedated, many hours looking at him, realizing the days were now numbered, that so much time had been squandered, that this mountain of a man was slipping from me, from this earth. The words poured out in poems fully formed as if I was a just a vehicle for them to arrive. ...
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The Vows. A look backwards. When we stood before the preacher in front of God and the few we held dear on that October afternoon we recited the traditional vows to one another. I was so damn happy. I had found him! What were the odds? My age defied the odds, I was in my 40’s. Our backgrounds were completely different; no one we knew would have ever connected the two of us together. Even how we met defied the odds, driving north on a highway in a suburb of NYC, doing 80 mph on a September afternoon when the light slants golden from the west bathing everything in what the film industry calls “Golden Time” because it is fleeting and stunning. I noticed a black beefy sports car in my rear view mirror driving like I do. Fast and aggressive. I slowed down to get a gander at this person, when he pulled up along side me, he in the center lane, me in the left, I literally hurt m...