her arms and her hands are covered with bruises. bruises made by the needles that pierced her skin - for the dextrose, for the blood transfusion, for the blood samples.
these are the hands that raised me, cared for me, embraced me, nourished me, loved me...the hands that comforted when when i was down, wiped my tears, held my hand, nursed me frm my illness..
and today you will be spending mother's day at the icu. i cannot bear to listen how your tears fell as they attached the ventilator, as they placed those tubes in your mouth, how hungry you are but you cannot eat, the pain that doesn't seem to end...
i'm sorry i cannot go home today mama. it's this stupid elections. buses are darn crowded. please don't go yet. please...stay a little longer.
"My mother protected me from the world and my father threatened me with it." - Quentin Crisp
No comments:
Post a Comment