A Caregiver's Psalm

(For my dedicated family members--you gave it your all.)

Tick.
Hours  to days to year.
And then year.
And I stay here with you.
We sit. We read. We wait.
Or just talk.
You laugh at a memory
And transport me back.
I let it in. It’s mine now.
At night, we watch a loud TV.
Click.
Let’s watch that one show again.
I’ve got time.
So I watch you eat.
When did it get so slow and hard to swallow food?
You offer the dish to me.
The eyes close to sleep.
While I give you time.

You need something?
Sip of water? Pillow? A light on?
Maybe a hand to hold.
That’s why I come. It’s what I like.
You worry.
You say I should be doing dot, dot, dot.
Nonsense.
You aren’t a burden. And you aren’t my job.
But you have become my purpose.
Let me give you help.

How can I make this better?
All fine for one moment.
Then you’re not.
How to ease it.
How to fix it.
If only I’d known that yesterday’s laugh
Was a plateau we won’t reascend . . . for a while, at least.
I carry on and count medicine,
Wipe tears, and fold clothes.
I talk to your doctor
And read to you.
I won’t stop giving you care.

But even hard days get better.
And cold days warmer.
With patience thrust upon you,
I feel I must linger
To try and prolong hope.

Life's string of time starts to weave a new web,
Deeply knit with yours.
We begin to share, think, and live
All without speaking.
Am I your child? Or are you mine? I forget.
The hours passed in your space 
Now greatly exceed all other places.
Can’t remember what last year's schedule
Looked like. Doesn’t matter.
That was a different life.
That was a different me.

You, my waking worry,
Your smile has changed.
I see you
Wishing to move on,
Needing to stay.
People patting my back to say,
“What a good person to sit there all day!”
But they don’t know,
They can’t know
What a wonder you are;
My precious preference to all the mundane world.
If they knew,
They too,
Would sacrifice anything for you.

It’s not a day, though we write it so.
Just a simple moment.
A moment where
We separate.
A confusing and frightening arithmetic. 
Life adding joys and sorrows, multiplying people.
But death subtracts.
And then divides.
You always said I did too much.
Not enough. Not so. 
So thank you, sublime gift that you are,
For giving me that last moment.
For sharing that last breath.
For the everlasting imprint of
Your soul on mine.
And thank you
For sending

Peace.