Skip to main content

The Last Time

If you knew it was the last time,
Would you want to know?
If you knew it was the last time
Before you watched her go?

 If you knew it was the last time,
Would you laugh as loud?
Would you dance as hard
Under that heavy cloud?

If you knew it was the last time
You'd see her face to face,
Would you drink in her smile,
Her beauty and her grace?

Would those joyful eyes be met with tears
If you knew what you know now?
Would you dare to dream with her?
If so, how could you? How?

If you knew it was the last time,
Would you have waved with hope,
Or would you still be standing there,
Not knowing how to cope?

If you knew it were the last time,
Would you hold on to every breath,
Grieving every moment
That came before her death?

If you knew it were the last time
You would ever meet,
Would you enjoy the time you had?
Would it be quite as sweet?

If you knew it was the last time,
Are there things you would have said,
Or would you stand paralyzed
By this awful dread?

If you knew it was the last time,
You wouldn't want to know.
For now you remember only
Her joy and youthful glow.

~For Katie


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Enjoying Life After 23

I'd like to say that I finally found my writing materials that had been lost in the moving boxes, and that is why I am finally returning after my eight-and-a-half-month hiatus.  But in this age of technology and internet clouds, that can no longer be my excuse.  Food for thought in the examination of today's generation, but I digress. When I first started my short run at this blog last year, it was because I had never dared to plan or dream past age 23, and therefore had the feeling that, in a way, my life was over.  At least, my life as I had always imagined it was over.  I had just found out that bearing children - if that was even an option anymore - was unlikely without fertility treatments.  The only dream/goal I had allowed myself after age 23 was suddenly ripped out from under me and dangled somewhere ahead in the dark mist of the future, taunting me with the possibility that, even then, it was only a mirage. At the beginning of this blog, I had no idea just h
2 comments
Read more

Reading with an Empty Womb: Becoming a Villager

It's not their fault - the book authors, your friends, your study leader.  I understand that.  But it doesn't make the pain ease up at all.  Anyone else who has struggled with infertility knows what I'm talking about.  You sit down to read your devotional or (God forbid!) have a group Bible study, open your book, and at the top of the page: CHILDREN .  It doesn't matter what the rest of the title says, because that's the only word you see, staring up at you like a big red light that, by turns, is mocking you and judging you. You think, "That's it, I'm out.  This whole lesson doesn't apply to me."  Or perhaps wonder what is so wrong with you that God doesn't want you to raise children.  You maybe start comparing yourself to other moms in your study group, and before long, little seeds of resentment start to germinate as you think, "Why does she get to use this parenting knowledge and I don't? I mean, I'm better than her at
Post a Comment
Read more

A Word to the Support System

For most of us, there comes a time in life where basic functions become celebrations.  Where abilities that were once take for granted are now mountains we must climb.  Where often modesty and personal dignity step aside in the face of necessity. These inevitable moments may arise after a surgery, when the recovering patient can finally use the restroom on his own instead of in a bedpan held by a nurse.  A new mother finds sweet satisfaction in the ability to shave her own legs after months of not seeing her own feet.  The simple words "yes" and "no," uttered from a stroke patient's mouth, brings victorious tears to everyone in the room. Whether it's relatively short-lived or stems from a long-term illness, these experiences force us to look at ourselves - and the people around us - differently.  Others often surprise us with their "true colors," as it were.  The gruffest person we know could become our most attentive friend.  Those we thought
Post a Comment
Read more