Today I feel more conversant with the memory of my husbands last days than usual, so I wrote a poem. Although I may not be considered a poet, I still feel conversant with his memory.
A MEMORY afraid to forget
Some die soft and others die-hard.
You left me with a heart scarred.
His Will was to call you home
His Will left me all alone.
Your words to me were bravely spoken
Today I understand the words foretoken.
“It’s Gods Will,” you said over and over.
“Please lend me a prayer,” and moreover;
“What did our priest just say to me?”
Words I just couldn’t foresee.
“Our children will now care for you,”
He knew they would follow through.
Now that it’s been five long years
What I do best are shedding tears.