Some people love the sound of crickets singing.
Not me.I lay wide eyed in the dark.
The chirping; an alarm clock,
an unrelenting song of unsettle,
evidence that even nature won’t be still.
I cannot sleep tonight.
Neither can the crickets.
My mind is spinning,
whirling dervish, dancing around the impossibility
of all that is ahead of me.
In all honesty,
it’s not the hardest thing
I’ve ever had to do.
It’s just the brutal and unabashed truth ...
that simply said,
I’m tired.
My Grandmother’s battle with Covid has left her less than she once was.
Finally the time has come
and she requires more care than we are able to provide.
It’s a hard divide
between duty and capacity,
desire and capability,
agility ... and process, especially without preparation.
Why didn’t we have a plan when it was so obvious we would one day need one?
Perhaps, like everyone, we believed she was invincible.
She’s the toughest woman ... human I know.
And she was always that way with beauty and grace.
Never have I known anyone else that would sit stoic on a seat of thorns pretending to enjoy the pin prick.
Perhaps only a rose can pull that off.
With each chirping of the cricket song
It’s just the brutal and unabashed truth ...
that simply said,
I’m tired.
My Grandmother’s battle with Covid has left her less than she once was.
Finally the time has come
and she requires more care than we are able to provide.
It’s a hard divide
between duty and capacity,
desire and capability,
agility ... and process, especially without preparation.
Why didn’t we have a plan when it was so obvious we would one day need one?
Perhaps, like everyone, we believed she was invincible.
She’s the toughest woman ... human I know.
And she was always that way with beauty and grace.
Never have I known anyone else that would sit stoic on a seat of thorns pretending to enjoy the pin prick.
Perhaps only a rose can pull that off.
With each chirping of the cricket song
I chide myself for the times I’ve complained how she was too strong & hard headed
mostly because I was on the receiving end.
Right now I’m just grateful that she’s more stubborn than death.
And that diminished breath
and deadly virus were met by her iron will.
They are chirping still,
and I realize I have no desire to be that strong ... or sing that long.
I shutter with shame; it feels like an ungrateful honesty.
Yet it is still my truth;
I'm tired.
She is tired too.
And suddenly feel like I'm not entitled to my own exhaustion.
Then I wonder “how is it that her will has more endurance than my own?”
Perhaps I’ll never know.
The trill is yet unstill & harmonizing with the call of the alarm clock.
It’s 2:45.
My eyes are wide
like saucers in the darkness.
Duty is calling me
Damn the crickets & their incessant symphony.
mostly because I was on the receiving end.
Right now I’m just grateful that she’s more stubborn than death.
And that diminished breath
and deadly virus were met by her iron will.
They are chirping still,
and I realize I have no desire to be that strong ... or sing that long.
I shutter with shame; it feels like an ungrateful honesty.
Yet it is still my truth;
I'm tired.
She is tired too.
And suddenly feel like I'm not entitled to my own exhaustion.
Then I wonder “how is it that her will has more endurance than my own?”
Perhaps I’ll never know.
The trill is yet unstill & harmonizing with the call of the alarm clock.
It’s 2:45.
My eyes are wide
like saucers in the darkness.
Duty is calling me
Damn the crickets & their incessant symphony.