You're Gone

It was only yesterday that you looked up and smiled.
It was only yesterday that you said, “Hello Baby”, in your Big Bopper voice, when I returned home from work.

It was only yesterday that we had coffee and discussed world events. But, then again, yesterday is relevant as you would have said. You have been gone now over a year.

It was only yesterday the two of us walked down to the beach. You stopped though, to catch your breath, because of the chemo treatments.

It was only yesterday we packed and hurried off to the airport but we were late; it was raining and we missed our flight that night. But, you didn’t complain. You said it would be all right. You reassured me we would make it to our son’s home. And it was true. They booked us on the next flight.

It was just yesterday, that you lay in bed, the morphine taking over your body. Because of the narcolepsy you already had, your body needed to sleep more and more. You were just not active; you were tired; you were not your self.

It was only yesterday it seems; I remember it so well. I called our son and said please come home. Your dad is not feeling well.

It was on a Friday, September 3, I remember it so well. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t drink, and your breathing wasn’t doing very well. You just tossed, turned and slept. You had been restless, agitated, and, I believe, you knew. I so remember…

It isn’t yesterday anymore, today is now and it is so real. You’re gone, my husband, my love, but I will remember you still.

Copyright by Sandy Davison 10-11-2011