My Sister…My Heart

Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere The last time I saw you, But your eyes were turned inward, And you did not see me. Where were you then? What happened there? Your hands were never still: You flapped them and wrung them, Unable to stop. You looked clenched, Incarcerated, like an inmate Pacing the cell in solitary In the tenth year of a life sentence Without parole… I thought you were lost to me… Gone, unreachable, Never to meet my eyes again, Nor say my name Nor smile that mischievous grin of yours. You are shrunken, a mere wisp Of your old self: Eighty-five pounds, mostly bones Poking sharply the fabric of your skin; Your leg no bigger around than my arm, Your arms even smaller; Your cheeks are hollowed, Skin stretched over the jaw And wrinkling softly beneath. Your long tapered fingers Folded under your face in sleep, You slumber tranquilly, As you have not done in years… Lying still and relaxed on your side. This is not what I expected. I watch you in wonder, Seeing you so relaxed and free, As at no other time I can easily recall, And give thanks for this mercy You’ve been denied before. Minutes go sliding by; I kneel by your bed and watch, And wait…         ***** Slowly your eyelids slide open ---your eyes still struggling to focus--- ---you are still half in bondage to a dream--- and you look at me. First contact. We have not exchanged glances In twenty-four months, and it’s Longer than that since you knew me, Yet today you do know me. Steadily you look at me Eyes locked, frowning slightly In the effort to pull back from sleep. Inches from your face am I And I ask, “Are you okay?” …not expecting any reply. But you answer softly, “…yeah…” and smile a little, speaking unheard words with your eyes gazing into mine. I ask, “Did you have a nice nap?” And again you breathe “…yeah…” “Good dreams, sweetie?” “…yeah…” I am sublimely stabbed With joy: a song Silently welling up From the wound of loss That has been my heart For you, these past years; Carefully, slowly, I reach out And touch your arm, Not wanting to severe This gossamer filament That binds us, One to the other; I stroke gently, so lightly, and Watch you slip back into your dream, Smiling. My sister …my heart… welcome back… Bonnie Cook 7-Apr-02...this is too delicate a connection, still...i am afraid to hope for too much...tomorrow may always be different...but this small miracle is what i found today, when i visited my sister in the nursing home, for the first time. if you wonder about the whys and wherefores, feel free to read some of my other works, like Storm, Snake Mother, Anguish for a Sister, Losing her, and Damn You...these will enlighten you far more than i can here...thanks as always, for allowing me to give these feelings outlet. it is family here, to me. Written April 7th, 2002 © on Apr 07 2002 01:29 PM PST    18 • 0 • 12