I look at her picture. And I want to grab her out of it. To feel her warmth again..I just want to grab her by the shoulders.. and
her shoulders ..
oh God.. please don’t let me forget..
her shoulders ..
my hands could perfectly cup them. If I moved my thumbs inward I could feel that bony bump right there.. They curved in slightly..
I think . ..I think she hunched just a tiny bit. Oh my God.
Is that her? Or is it Jonathan?
please .. oh please.
jennifer. no. no. no. its like i am losing you again.
Piece by piece she was stolen. And now it happens again. As I struggle against my own brain to remember her. Its like a grainy cell phone picture..
We have tally marks on the wall for the kids heights. I walk past and will touch where she was at 6. The last time we measured her.. I made sure we did it before heading into her appointment that afternoon. .
did I know something would be terribly wrong?
I walk past and I touch to try to remind myself of where the top of her head was.
I remember your legs and bony little ankles. I remember our time in our apartment by the hospital.. How I would rub your legs.. The rigidity I would try to rub out of your calves..I can right now so vividly remember the way they felt. The temperature of your skin. How I could feel the tightness and try to release some of what that damned tumor was stealing..
Thin little legs but with some muscle in her calves. Her ankles were bony. He feet too. But she had good toes. .. Big toe was the biggest and they each were little smaller than the one before it. Skinny feet with a really high arch. She loved me rubbing her feet. . I still love the smell of that lotion. I will intentionally inhale it sometimes.. and close my eyes.. and smile.
i’ll just sit here and wait
trapped in this prison of my mind
i’ll breathe slowly..
…until there is a cure..