Pandemic Meditation on the Second Anniversary of My Mother’s Passing

1)

This morning

On the second anniversary

Of my mother’s passing

I listened to birds in trees

While contemplating how hard

It must be to not be allowed to sit

With love ones who are dying

Breathing out this damned virus

In vapors of last breaths

2)

I remember how my sister texted

That mom had been calling

For three days for dad

And to come home and I did

3)

On the second night of my return

My wife and eldest daughter

Sat with me at the foot of her bed

Talking and listening into the night

Mom was never good at goodbyes

She always lingered at the door

I didn’t want to keep her here

And preferred to sit quiet

So she could leave and journey home

4)

When dad passed, I sat alone

Silently counting dry breaths

Mom’s breathing was wet gurgles

A nurse would come occasionally

To clear her air ways

Her heart was still strong

As she tried to swim

In the water of her humanity

5)

At 2:30 in morning, she quit breathing

Our daughter went to get a nurse

The nurse said mom was still alive

Attempted to clear her passage ways

She broke down sobbing

She was sorry, but Alice was gone

6)

I stepped into the hall

And called my siblings

After prayers with family

To get away from noise

I went outside – three inches of

Late Indiana spring snow lay on the ground

I remembered how mom

Would have had us cover blooms

With Mason jars to protect them

From the freeze

4-10-20