Prepare...

From the day my dad died of Leukemia, i could not count the amount of times i was told.."Well, at least you had time to prepare for his death." A little less than 6 months was given to prepare for the loss of the man I called my Hero....

Prepare.

They open their mouths to spew dribble.

Absorb.

At least you had time to prepare……….

 

   I was given time.

  Seconds allotted to absorb.

  Minutes to transpire moments for the hours still left in play.

  Days frozen inside weeks chosen to laugh, smile and dance.

  They say

  I was given time to prepare.

  But, what to do with the time, I had not a clue.

  They say

  I was given time to absorb.

  But, my spongy insides were drowning from the tears

  Washing the walls of my soul.

  I believed the time I was given was endless.

  The blood in your veins would run rampid for eternity,

  Putting the most powerful rapids to shame.

  I didn’t know how to prepare.

  Do you hear me?

  I didn’t want to absorb.

  I watched as the months went backwards.

  Time took the weeks to rewind them to days

  And what is left but hours leading to mere minutes?

 

 Minutes can fade before your eyes have a moment to force blink.

 

  But, it was the seconds that stopped time.

  So close to you, the flat musty smell of Savannah’s swamps filled  the air.

  Stifling, quite stifling.

  It was in the second that you took your last breath

    My breath was taken away.

  The dark and desolate highway was all that stood in between you and me.

  It was the second your heart drummed its’ last beat

     My heart plunged violently through my entire body.

  The trees and unending pavement wove darkness in between our last touch.

  It was that very same second you cut yourself loose

      I felt a part of my essence leave.

  We were miles apart yet we were consumed by the same second

   I was to be prepared for.

  But, I was not.

   Jesus Christ, I was not prepared.

 

  As with everything else,

  The wind blew harshly as I stood before your ashes

  In disbelief that you were not invincible.

  I was given time.

  Time to do the impossible

  For there was no strategy to defeat your illness.

  I was given time.

  Time to absorb

  A truth I refused to believe.

  I was given time.

  Time to prepare for the moment of your death

  That I could not prepare for.

  I’m sorry daddy,

   I didn’t know how.

 

Author's Note

Please don't be too harsh with comments on this one. It falls short of being called poetry simply because it is my screaming soul.

Reviews

[Whispering Aspen]

This is heartbreaking to say the least. There really is no such thing as being prepared. To have been prepared would have implied that you would have known how it would change you to undergo such wrenching loss and change in your life. Denial plays a huge part in that time you had, yes, but those who say you had time to prepare imply you had a disaster switch you could flip on in your heart to keep you from suffering when he died. I'm so sorry for your loss! Knowing in advance, in many ways is worse because you get the pleasure of suffering every day in advance so that you are battered and run down emotionally when the last moment comes and the pain is overwhelming already, let alone to suffer the end of the denial phase. I hope you are recovering, or have recovered now. Poetry (and yes this is poetry, and very good poetry if you could tug at my heartstrings as you so obviously have done) is a very good tool for soothing the injured soul! I use it for therapy frequently. Thank you so much for having the courage to share what is clearly such tender and raw emotion, but a beautifully touching poem!

[Collette]

On the contrary, I think this is indeed poetry. Raw, emotional, connected with the reader...you've cover all the angles while bearing your soul at the same time. I loved it. I felt it. Your words touched me, which is the mark of a true poet. I wouldn't change a thing in this piece. It is you, your emotion, your anger. I don't think time heals anything, and it's a slap in the face to hear the phrase "time to prepare". Nothing can ready you for the loss of a loved one, but strength and memories will keep you moving, even when you don't want to go anywhere. Nice write, and I look foreward to reading more of your work.