Living with Loss

In 2008, I went to Australia to visit a friend and her family.  I was there for three weeks, from around Thanksgiving until almost Christmas. It was a joyful time to be with her and her family, with her two young children excited by all the events of the holiday.  She selflessly took me on daily adventures, sharing her fair city, a drive into the mountains, a walk over the Sydney Harbor Bridge and romping around Sydney for hours, and near the end of my visit a Sunday morning walk on Bondi Beach followed by breakfast at a outside cafe.  One afternoon, close to my departure, we all sat on a blanket in the park, basking in the December warmth and sun of the southern hemisphere and listened to Christmas music while the children danced and sang and we ate cheese and crackers and sipped wine. On one rainy day, we rested from our daily jaunts and I flipped through the pages of her recipe books. The entire trip is a beautiful memory for me; the novelty of being in another country, spending tim

call No. Ok Horror, tears Screams on the floor No. No. on the floor He won't You're not sure in the room The little room with the door pray, peace, comfort No. not now, not here drive drive in the night wait, not here down the hall in the room with the door Ok sleep on the floor How old Not sure surgery ok Crashing, failing more lines, more machines what for blood, lines versed cadaver skin bandages, surgery check the eyes change the bandage pray, cry New Year Don't fear, come here On the floor in the room The big room, with the door pray, cry, sit, wait Cold feet No more sit on the floor in the room, with the door I'm sorry he said He's dead floor room door