She's gone she's gone she's gone.
My head hurts and I can't sleep and all I do is sleep but mostly eat and drink and
one moment
I am being pulled in a hundred directions
people needing something needing comfort needing assurance needing decisions and also a shoulder and I am supposed to be the shoulder and shoulder the burden but I think I need something
and the next moment
I am alone.
And I miss her.
And I had to hold her dead and cold body while the overnight nurse yanked off her last soiled diaper.
And my husband helped the man place her on the cart, cover her, and strap her in
(Bring out yer dead)
And I wouldn't complain- no I'm not complaining- because there were many blessings
And I'll have memories to last a lifetime...
But I wish I could hug her
or sit and drink coffee with her and talk like in the old days.
She would tell me I put myself under too much pressure.
She would tell me to try to have a little fun.
She would not be sick, but the fierce and tenacious woman who raised me.
If I close my eyes, I am almost there.
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