|
Comment on this
article
Reflections
by Jane Lang
It’s early, not five am and I sit at the breakfast
table with my first cup of morning-coffee, idly
look over the crossword puzzle, and reflect
on his insistent, plaintive question,
“Babe, can you love me like this?” The need
for more mobility than his two legs allowed
rolling over etched paths of my tears across
these hardwood floors – a slow, shuffling,
repetitive gait,
thud...scrape, thud...scrape, thud...scrape
As sometimes happens, ours was the miracle of
love newly-found in what was referred to as
the Golden years, more aptly it was ordained,
kismet, destined – two paths crossing at the
intersection of Act III, Scene Four
“Babe, can you love me like this?” YES!
Yes! Come back for one more month, one more
week, one more day, one more hour, a minute.
Darkness and while final curtain drops...fade
to coffee cup, breakfast table, crossword puzzle
Return to:
|