i watch her from a distance, the old woman with her son

she was once taller, i think…time has drawn her closer to the earth, bringing her near to his side

she slowly, stiffly, maneuvers his wheelchair to have a better view of the pond

he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak…yet she, looking into his eyes, speaks and nods in a language only they seem to understand

i smile

i understand this woman…i am this woman

she sits…and relaxes a bit in the early spring chill. they both look out over the still waters, saying nothing

silence is our life

sometimes embraced, often overwhelmed and pushed away with music and children’s voices….one sided conversation is exhausting…we eventually return to the silence

she looks tired, worn…i wonder how long she has been caring for him, if she is alone…i think of my own unfinished plans

in this life, the smallest of kindnesses loom large. ..i gather myself and slowly walk toward them

i greet him first, smiling as she begins to explain, assure her i understand…she senses our sisterhood, and returns my smile

this business of caregiving, of growing old, of making impossible plans for inevitable outcomes…is unbearably hard


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s