I can feel that moment,
The moment I awoke,
From the sedation of stomach pumping,
Of charcoal working,
Of death wishing,
Of a horror that had just passed and yet I didn’t know,
Had only just begun.
But in all my isolation,
In all my loneliness,
In all my sorrow,
There you sat,
As gentle as a summer leaf,
As gentle as a mothers reef.
When my eyes opened to your face just there,
I went on my side
Out of shame,
Out of guilt,
Out of nothing to do with pride.
I, for a split second, touched in with the magnitude of what I’d done.
And yet now I see I had only just touched the surface.
You were there,
You showed me care, tenderness and support at a time I needed it the most.
At a time I had never been in before.
I can picture it clear as day,
The dress you were wearing,
The gentle compassion in your face,
The grey cardigan over your shoulders when you were cold watching the doctors shuffle around me.
I can reach out and grasp that moment like it was yesterday,
My heart hurts with pain –
Pain of it all,
And pain of what was
And what was not.
I remember the tenderness of your being,
But also the lightness of your showing.
The character building this moment was becoming.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart, for all you gave and all you showered,
Because without you,
I just can’t bare to think of it in all its sour.