I wrote the below poem in late November when my beloved India
first started showing signs of deterioration. Loyal as she was, she had trouble
saying goodbye. I had trouble saying goodbye. Yesterday, we finally did.
Resisting Arrest
Dog tracks line
the kitchen floor.
They smell of
blindness
&
rotten
teeth.
They lead
to stains
of a
future,
buried, like her
buried, like her
cherished
bone.
The dog
rests
on the
bedroom
floor,
too tired
to make
it to her
(death)
bed,
too tired
to die today.
to die today.
It’s been a day since we parted. My heart still hurts. She was
my guide through loss after loss—cancer, heart failure times two, cancer,
cancer, cancer, people who fit into that whole seasons, reasons, and lifetime
category, and on and on it went for what seemed like forever.
I have been working a lot today but decided to take a walk. Normally
I see a few rabbits when I leave my house. But today they were everywhere. Next
it was the lizards. To my right, to my left.
I got a little farther and my intuition told me to take a
different route. And there it was. One of the pennies my father likes to leave in my
path. Then the little tree. Another symbol I associate with him.
I started to feel a little better, yet soon India popped back
into my head. My heart sagged with sadness again. Until nature, magical
nature, swooped in to surprise me.
Some sort of winged beetle zoomed in front of me and landed on
my sleeve, causing me to look up.
There, staring at me, was this message, hand painted
on a rock: Have faith and you will never walk alone.
A Gift from #LetsRockAmerica |
From Dad? From India? That part doesn’t really matter. What
matters is that I felt someone watching over me, an otherworldly presence. And
I know that when I walk, all those who’ve flown from my life, still walk beside
me.
My Sweet India |
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