View From a Hospital Window
You wake,
acutely aware of breathing,
not your own, but of the man who raised you,
pale, drawn, eyes closed and flickering,
Everything dead except a heart
that beats firmly past expectations.
Everything dead except memories,
sweet and sour, that have filled your restless dreams.
There is no reason for you to be here.
There is nothing you can do.
It is a matter of time, nothing more.
And yet, here you are, in honor, and honored
both, to share these last days
in silence, in prayer, in memory,
sure somehow that each moment now,
even without his being aware,
has meaning.
About this poem.
I took this picture with my phone as I woke this morning from my Dad’s hospital window. Against anything that makes medical sense, he continues to breathe and his heart beats strong, even as everything else fails. It is however, just a matter of timing.
And so, we wait.
Tom
Quarry House 
Oh Tom, my heart and prayers have been with you both. I sat beside my dad’s bed when he was in a coma and read encouraging scripture to him and sang hymns to him…poor thing! I told him he was a “captive” audience. 🙂 I don’t know if he heard for sure but somehow I believe he knew I was there, saying if he could have – “don’t quit your day job” when I sang!
The longest hours are spent bedside in a hospital. It brings your own mortality front and center.