terrypetersen

“Goodbyes make you think. They make you realize what you’ve had and what you’ve lost, and what you’ve taken for granted.” —Unknown

Dear Barb,

 I watch a plane fly low. Only a flash of silver passes across the sky. Sound eludes me. For no reason I understand, I think about you as you flew to a place that we all will know someday. My heart wants the same plane to pass again. I didn’t see enough, even though I have no idea what I missed.

A moment when I could have paid more attention, perhaps. Or, the mockery innate in the plane’s distance. You said you had enough of hurt, pain, and illness. You told us as you entered our car after dialysis that final Saturday, “I had a bad day.” You fought the pain by asking about freshness in our lives. And we took the bait. Just before we left your house, I patted your hand.

You didn’t look up when you said, “Thank you.” Your last words before you entered the hospital.

I was not ready for you to fly. I am not ready to send a letter that won’t be answered.

Help me to understand that love sings without words. Thanks for sharing it with us.