Still Dancing

I always remember how you danced around the kitchen table, swaying left to right with steps so light that I was afraid you would fly away. But you were tethered to this earth. By choice, by divine intervention, by a lifeline of oxygen pumping air into your lungs. Prior to lunch you always sang theContinue reading “Still Dancing”

A Never-ending March

I am stuck in March, on that long, dark morning. I can still hear the whir of medical equipment, the oxygen machine keeping you alive and with us. We believed you were still coherent, registering both our voices and presence right in front of you, despite being unable to speak. We believed that you wouldContinue reading “A Never-ending March”