Strange Life

She said she thought her life would be a good one
Filled with sweet-faced babies and love
Without too much sadness
I think God’s looking out for me.
But then she got sick
Laid down for two years in plaster.
Missed out on being young.

When she got older she was the prettiest
Men didn’t want to stay away from her
And women didn’t like her very much.
She said, I think I’ll travel
See the world and collect its shards
Ride camels and never worry.

The sick was always underneath
And sometimes it came out
Only to stay for a little while
Only a minor setback
Her body knew what to expect
Usually.

Life wasn’t sweet-faced babies
But there was love.
She married him because he was steady
And she loved him and he let her be.
They argued furiously about minute details of daily life
But never debated anything of meaning.

And there was family, even after Mother died,
Better family than she could have ever dreamed of.
And she was nicer than she had been before.
And she still met new people and tried new things
And shopped, and ate, and traveled.
But slowly that came to an end too.

For a while she could ignore it
Pretend the fluid in her lungs didn’t cut her breath
Pretend the constant aching was no big deal
Separate her visits to the chemo room
From her real life
But then it got too hard.

She never lost her hair:
Bed-ridden with sores,
And an inability to breathe without the help of an oxygen tank
And without much hope at all
As she wrote her will
She took pride in the fact that
At least
She never lost her hair.

And then she was five years old again
And who were these strange people
Standing over her bed, talking to her?
She was tired. And wanted Mommy.
And called for Daddy, even though
She knew he wouldn’t come.
And the nice woman with her eyes
Told her it was okay to let go.
And so she did.