Transition

The hospital bed slightly tilts up Cords tangled on the floor Round the bottom of the bed Bright light shining down Ace bandage tied to a pull cord Running to the side of the bed To Mom’s weak hand Still holding on Mom — who wears sweaters When it’s eighty degrees outside For the first time in my life She is so warm Too warm Stripped down to hospital gown Dirt colored blankets piled haphazardly at her feet And a fan blowing across her face is on high Her generally colorless cheeks are rosy As if kissed by too much sun We shiver Five siblings and me Hospital blankets over jackets AC blowing through beige walls Outside — ten below zero Mom sits up Lies down Breathes Rests We watch her lying there Like we watch the ocean tide Swell and recede Losing focus Deep in thought ⸻ Chorus You’ve always been there Anchored me How will it be When you disappear No longer here Like the ocean tide Swell and recede Losing focus Just… watching her breathe ⸻ The cancer had already crawled into her lungs Spreading like frost on a window Ferns in a forest It is collapsing her lungs Stealing her life Slowly sucking the oxygen From her arms Legs Brain Heart We take a picture She wants her silver earrings on Six kids Dad Forced smiles Bright eyes Last family photo ⸻ Bridge (Raw / Spoken) “We’ll be okay Mom It’s okay to go” “And your Dad You take care of Dad” ⸻ We wake her Tell her to breathe Monitor removed Morphine turned up She knows she is dying She smiles anyway Trying to make it easier For us We sing We Pray We Laugh We Joke We Smile We choke on the pain we feel so deep. She says your brother is here to take me home. She points to the air next to me. ⸻ Something breaks inside me Feels like laughing Feels like screaming Feels like throwing myself across her My sister holds me Says be strong Be strong for Mom Time stops moving We’re afraid to leave Afraid to not be there When she goes We sit by her bed all night Whispering it’s ok to go Secretly hoping for her to stay ⸻