Untitled--22.

22.

I wanted to not have to tell your story because I wished that it could have been a secret ritual between all of us. A beautiful passing, where once people stood and then the sands erased away. But you were wife and mother, and this is the other side of that, where it’s important to speak about you. So infrequently are those praises sung. I must tell of what you did. We lived a life. Yes, that I know. But you did so much more than that. And you are funny, witty, full of pointed statements. I must bring that to the center as well. I never want anybody to forget that. Parting pains us but I know that there will be other times when I will feel your jokes right there.

Passing humor. Passing time. We recognize the timeframes now, still. We mark the passage of time with bodily functions. Those are still ticking well. You watch fear-based news, but now with the sound off. Most of the time with the sound off now. Maybe the tv is for the rest of us now. I can’t tell. I don’t think you know what’s going on on the television anymore. In fact, I’m fairly sure that you don’t now. It’s better to be realistic about it. You speak to people who have passed now. You are losing your English. But you remember many words in English. Maybe it’s the Morphine. Now I am fairly certain that your world between things is the Morphine.

But I will be back here again one day with someone else. I don’t know who yet, and I have no idea who will help me with whoever it is who is passing. Perhaps I will have to do it by myself. I don’t know. Everything will fall into place by then perhaps. It is strange to think about this time as it may not be so far away yet. But I have to go soon, and you do too. Rest well. I know you will be smiling.