Etching the Landscape

Some loss never ends...

In December 2010, I retired early from a career that I loved, as a newsletter writer, editor, and eventually, webmaster for a state agency. One of my daughters, then thirty-three and the mother of a four-year-old, had been diagnosed with the third of a string of terminal illnesses. I could have taken leave as needed to help her, or even a year of sabbatical, but there isn’t a use by date on cancer—no assurance that a year would conveniently be enough. I was already to the point where I couldn’t concentrate at work. I needed to be home.

That six and a half months were both special and devastating as I watched her slip away. Her sweet husband was determined to finish his last semester of college, her little boy needed to be taken back and forth to preschool, and she had test after treatment after test to be driven to. I lived only a mile away and became the on-call driver, nanny, errand runner, and someone to talk to. By the end of winter, I was adept at folding up her scooter, and then her wheelchair, loading her and her mobility tools in my car, then driving her wherever she needed to go.

She was amazingly brave through the pain she endured, driving the scooter, maneuvering the wheelchair, struggling with the crutches to move a few feet. When her son turned five, she insisted on giving him a big birthday party, the last one she would ever see. Two days before the party, she drove her scooter around Costco and two different grocery stores, selecting treats and party favors for 15 to 20 children. I followed behind to load up the carts.

We lost her in the middle of summer. Grief does ease with time, but the empty space inside those who love never closes. I feel it this time of year, insistent. Listen. Remember. Cry if you need to.

I wrote the poem below in memory of her and all the others we have lost.

Kiss me in clover while I die.
Send sweet wishes to the sky.
There is such sorrow in a single sigh.
Kiss me in clover as I lie.

Kiss me softly while we cry.
Tell me you love me as I lie.
Bury me deep beneath the sky.
Kiss me in clover. There is no why.

Photo by Noire Photography on Unsplash