Passing On

As we sit around the table for my Dad’s birthday my Mum says quietly, “See this ruby ring that I had for my 40th wedding anniversary? I want Florrie to have it when I’m gone.” I look at her.
“You are having my engagement ring and I want Florrie to have this one.” The ring moves a little on her knuckle as she touches it. She seems determined that I will agree to do this for her. “Okay.” I say after a moment.
Florrie, who is deep in conversation with my Dad, looks over at me and says, “Are you ok? You look a bit sad.” I realise that this is supposed to be a joyful birthday celebration for my Dad. He is seventy eight today and my Mum was eighty in the summer. Yes I’m sad.
I smile, as expected, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.

No Man

Everywhere I look, I see pillars that

previously held up the world…but crumbling…

giving off faint trickles of dust.

The new supports are not yet strong enough,

defined enough, to take the strain.

In the meantime a bridge hangs as if

levitating –

its gravity-defying strength an island

in the chaotic uncertainty that surrounds it.

Changing Roles

Pivotal,

my place.

Like a seesaw –

perpetual motion…mother…daughter…

transient.

‘Til the end of time (Ghazal)

The essence of waiting is to quietly be
Patient, not distract, just quietly be.

Be still as the dawn and open to change,
To have courage to act on what will be.

And what if that time should still its face?
Future, no longer fact, can cease to be.

The sands will run out and the tide will turn
To make no pact – all will simply not be.

I am Helen, yet not, and one day hence
A final redact, then all I will be…

Minimal Word Monday – Wincing

Kamikaze rabbit. Sitting…waiting…

Tick tock

She has taken her last exam and finished her last day at school, her prom is tomorrow and she has a nice weekend job that will hopefully extend a bit for the weeks of the holidays. She wants to go to college and then university, she has plans…she thinks her life is mapped out.
How quick these days, these years go.
I want to slow them down I want to make them last because I am scared that soon there will be too few left…then none…and the opportunities for talking, for being, with loved ones will have gone.

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