(To Jeanette and the multitudes like her who had to ward off the same adversary)
It arrived unannounced and settled in without knocking.
Like an unwelcome guest, who stays too long,
fails to contribute to the household,
and devours everything in sight, it remained.
I watched you dying slowly, in bits and pieces.
First you started walking with a limp,
having lost most function in the right side of your body.
I felt sorry for you, but if I had known then that eventually
you would not be able to sit up straight in a wheelchair,
I would have celebrated your mobility.
It became difficult to visit, because of my guilt;
my guilt over your having to get up to open the door,
my guilt over my health and enjoyment of life,
my sense of inadequacy when it came to making you more comfortable.
You stopped walking,
you stopped emailing,
you stopped phoning,
you stopped talking,
you stopped eating,
you stopped laughing.
I watched you dying,
painfully, slowly.
It broke my heart when I encouraged you to go
my courage failed where yours prevailed.
You went from hospital,
to home care,
to Hospice,
to frail care,
to dying.
You stopped being.
