life: acoustic & amplified

a caregiver’s life

She woke up with her brother, James, dying.
He was calling her to come,
but she couldn’t.
It happened years ago,
but to her it’s happening now.
It was so real, her grief, sadness, emotion.
I say, I’m sorry.
She has made a mess.
Don’t look at that, she says.
I have to anyway,
somebody has to look.
It won’t clean itself.
She can’t clean herself.
No words come from her mouth
that make sense to either of us this morning.
She could be speaking Russian.
Probably not.
Just consonants.
No vowels coming out.
She’s frustrated.
Falls back to sleep.
Now she’s ready for breakfast.
She’s found some words again.
Eats her eggs.
Delicious, she says.
We come out to the living room to fold laundry.
She struggles through socks and shoes.
The view, and this, room are new to her every morning.
It’s beautiful, she says,
and what a view,
but why did those men bury that big, black dog up there?
Do you see it?
No, I tell her, I don’t see.
Doesn’t mean you don’t see it –
but I can’t see what you are seeing.
Oh, never mind, she says.
She struggles through laundry.
Fighting to remember how to fold each piece.
Is it right?
Perfect, I say
Have you had any complaints about my folding being wrong? She asks.
No, only compliments, I reply,
I’m very thankful for your folding.
She looks out the window in between each new piece.
She wonders why those bigger birds are throwing the small birds off the roof.
Like there are mobster birds up on the roof
bullying the smaller birds for the best view.
It makes me laugh,
and she asks why that’s funny?
I assure her,
we will allow no gangster birds to hang out on the roof.
She says, ok,
but doesn’t look convinced.
It has taken 2 1/2 hours
to complete a small basket of laundry.
I helped with the 3 tshirts she couldn’t figure out.
She’s tired, she says,
by the way,
did you remember to take your bra out of the window?
It’s not even lunchtime.
She falls asleep,
filing her nails.
I write this poem,
trying to recover
from all these emotions.
she has already forgotten,
yet left hanging in the air.

AL 7/2/13

Let this be your mind today,
your purpose for being here:

not to accomplish tasks,
not to get your way,
not to complete your agenda,

but to share the burdens of those around you,
to lighten the load
of those who walk this life beside you.
You are not asked to solve every problem
or to heal every wound,
but simply to be present
to bear one another’s burdens
so that they do not struggle alone.
In this way Christ is alive in you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net