Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Somewhere, Just Before Waking

I've forgotten it all.
My child has no disease;
His daily burden is gone.
He's just a boy, like any other.

I've been here before.
Years ago, after Ma died.
For a long time, she still lived–
Occupying this brief space.

It's not a dream I'm in, you see.
I'm no longer asleep.
But I'm not really awake, either.

There is no loss.
I have no fear.
The "new normal" doesn't exist here.

But then, always –
The shock.
That moment, when reality intrudes.
When I am fully awake.

When I remember.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the beautiful post. It was really difficult for me to read.. and think about... but thats because it expresses a lot about how I feel.

Anonymous said...

I loved your poem, really beautiful...sorry i havent posted in a while i always enjoy your posts!!

Sandra Miller said...

Dee, Gina,

Thanks. I'm no poet (never written a poem in my life), but when I tried to describe this experience (of waking up and totally forgetting that Joseph had diabetes), this was how it came out.

It really is striking, you know, when it happens. Both wonderful (because, for a few moments, Joseph is fine) and horrible (because the price for those moments is the realization, each and every time, that he's not.)