I. Last Journey

On gleaming metal wings,
I fly desperately to my father's bedside,
Hoping to reach him before he crosses over.
Hoping for one last touch.
One last time to tell him l love him.
One final moment to say goodbye.
 

II. 66 Years Together

My mother sits at my dying father’s bedside.
He clutches her hand tightly. 

Is this the last glimmer of consciousness?
Or just the random spasms of his damaged brain?

It does not matter.
The energy of love and a lifetime will find
its way through the dark curtain.

And so they reach for each other one more time,
across the threshold.

 

III. The Vigil

We wait now, watching him.
Ministering only comfort,
Listening to his labored breathing,
His five children, attending.

We are exhausted and uncertain.
Some think to go, to return in the morning.
Is that right?
What does it mean to stay?
Does he know we are here?

We are standing, ready to leave,
But he takes command one last time.
He will decide who leaves the room and when!

His breathing stops, his face drains,
But that great heart keeps beating.
Strongly at first, then a soft pulsation,
fading, gently, faintly, faintly…

Finally.

We surround him.
We hold his hand.
We kiss his forehead.

Goodbye Dad.  We love you.

Goodbye.
 

IV.  Afterwards

Now the emptiness begins.
The sad, slow ache that lingers
In deserted corners.
The space where his favorite chair used to be.

Scenes from his life play through me.
I hear his laughter echoing across
This new hollow space within.

As he truly leaves us,
Rising to the light,
I marvel at the soft silk threads of love
Trailing behind him,
Pulling on all our hearts.