What Will The Postmark On This One Say?

Like a thief in the night
Entering unbidden, unwelcome, unwanted,
Under inky-wisp clouds creeping across a frozen,
secret moon.
Keeping little bits and pieces of our time,
Each precious moment gone, a shattered diamond; sand -
Making a desert where a garden needs to grow.
I saw a barren waste, glittering and sterile,
After my sister called.



Dear Mom,


As I mentioned in my prior letter, Patty is not doing too well. It is nearing either the end or a reprieve there is not a very good chance of having happen at this point, according to the doctors estimates. We have definitely not given up hope, but there is a letting go that seems to be taking place; a release of some emotional tether, of sorts, that has us preparing to say "Good-bye" or "Thank God!" Either way, the way is difficult for all of us right now, but especially for Patty.


There's still so much to tell you even though you're gone.
Forever is too long a time to wait
for heart's release. Old love will find its new dawn.


Dad and his "new" wife have been great. I think you would be glad to know how much time and energy she has put into helping Patty and the kids. She has also been very good to Mike, as well. Our step-mom is a real trooper and she loves Dad so much I am almost afraid for them, but they are both (especially Dad!) in good health and remaining very active, although I know trying to help raise another brood of young'uns was not something they anticipated when they met and married. Despite all of the love and support, I still miss you. It feels strange to not have you here while Patty goes through all of these terrible moments and bad news.


I know within Life's ebb and flow we long
to speak, to touch, to see; so we await.
There's still so much to tell you even though you're gone.


As the day for the transplant preparations looms nearer (we hope) there is a growing sense within me of wanting to be by Patty's side as much as possible, even if it's just to hold her hand or get her some ice. Mom, when she goes through the full body radiation that will kill her own ability to produce any kind of blood cells at all, please be in there with her. You are the only one of us who could be there beside her while the radiation is putting her into a point of no return if the transplant does not take hold. This is probably the most frightening part - they cannot do the transplant without poisoning her entire body with excessive radiation but they also cannot guarantee the transplant will take hold either. If things do not work out, please expect Patty to join you about two weeks from the day she is irradiated, the two of you will have to celebrate Brad's birthday there (where ever "there" is) together, while we try to pick up the pieces on this end.


Sometimes I tremble, like some woodland fawn,
because my child-heart grieves for mother late;
for heart's release. Old love will find its new dawn.


I really wish I could talk to you about all of this and you could reply in a conversational mode. Heartaches and intuition do not quite do the trick right now and you are missed with each day that passes as we all deal with these things with and for Patty.


So much to say with chances come and gone.
My heart's yearnings will not soon abate.
There's still so much to tell you even though you're gone.


All of our "I love yous" have been said; they are repeated as often as possible whenever we talk. Patty has Sue's hand to hold right now, but I do not know how long she will be up here and Arizona is a long way away. I also worry about your only two grandchildren. How will they make it without their mom to be there as they grow up? Two fat old aunties and a schizophrenic uncle may have their places in the lives of these children, but as we already know, no one can ever replace your own best Mom.

Why does loss release Love's poignant song?
In life, so much is held and said too late
for heart's release. Old love will find its new dawn.

I hope you are well and enjoying yourself. I have pictured you having tea with your mother, Sissy, and Emily Dickenson as I assume such things are possible in the realm you are now inhabiting. I hope to see you again, Mom, but not too soon. OK?


And so Life moves forever on and on.
For sweet reunion we with patience wait.
There's still so much to tell you even though you're gone.
For heart's release, old love will find its new dawn.

Love, Liz