migblog

this was the poem that i was so scared of because it's the most personal and it was the easiest to write. it's easily the longest poem in the entire series. there was an unusual flow that i got into when i was writng this. there's been little change to this since the second draft. i would hate to relive the event described in this poem again, for it scared a lot of us so much. that little something that could make me relate to the poem makes it that much harder to post it.

i hope you enjoy this one, folks. it scared me when i was writing it because i realized how true it was. as for You -- You know who You are.

fear

june 28th
the phone rings. it’s friday.
twelve o’clock, the clock read. jay was going home.
You had gone already because it was over 600 about two hours ago.
it was Your mother on the other end.
she said You were in the emergency room at st. joseph’s.

the laughter stopped and our smiles disappeared.

we rushed.
we got in mr. carvin’s mercedes, jay’s mom in the passenger side, and
we slammed the door and put on our seat belts and we gave the gas pedal hell.
red-green-red-green, the lights flashed
and we got on the onramp to the 91 and we hit the 55 and then the 22
and we saw the orange cones blocking the exit.
the trip was no less than excruciating and gut-wrenching. i was getting dizzy.
i was racking sobs inside of me while outside i remained
silent.
“main st. exit closed,” the sign said.
we madly dashed one past, turned right and right again
a sudden left and out the car.
the automatic doors opened wide,
greeting us as if the bright “emergency” sign was not enough.

we asked the nurse Your name and she said that visitors are limited
one at a time,
room thirty, past the door.
which door, which door – the one with the keypad – the one that
magically sprung open as i walked forward.
i stepped first, walked briskly past the threshold,
saw your stepfather-to-be and said there You are
expecting to see the worst.

i held my breath as i went past the curtain.

You were motionless and shallowly breathing
an intravenous drip down your arm
“we’re going to check your blood now” the other nurse said
while the other recounted her experiences with other patients
who needed amputations and couldn’t feel their toes and went blind.
Your forearm hurt because the nurse stabbed it with the needle.
You had a paper towel on Your head and Your eyes were bloodshot.
finally Your eyes opened and said
hey.
i was holding back tears every time i spoke with your mother.
it was a marvelous sight, the room.
it became traumatizing with You on the gurney
trying Your hardest to stay smiling
staying strong
aided by the proverbial twinkle of hope in Your eye.
You are truly amazing.

i held Your hand for a while.
You looked at me and didn’t need to say a word.
i clung on to it like i’d never let go; and this time
i prayed that i would give You something like strength
and hoped that a simple kiss on the hand would make it all better
like when You were little.
one o’ clock.
eerily silent, the room.

time passes. last count, 440. they’re doing final preparations
before we leave.
You can go home now.
no more tension.
knowing that if by waiting just a month more
the world would be a sadder place
i am happy that i know
and that You know.
two o’clock.
the emergency wing is quiet.

the ride home was beautifully uneventful.
i still didn’t let go.
people say that you need to get
scared
to fully appreciate something you love.
i was scared
and i love You.
i closed my eyes and thought deeply.
think, think, think, about what, about things i don’t know
about happy things, about imminence
about how God works in mysterious ways
(even though i’m an atheist)
and about how You look so different without your glasses.

how fragile we all are, i realized.
paralyzed by fear
gripped by things unforeseen and invisible
unanticipated, unwanted –
fear changes things.

i got home and slept for two hours
(i couldn’t sleep because i was too worried)
and woke up at four in the morning, crying.
fear slapped me in the face
and made me doubt
and let my mind delve into thoughts more horrible and perverse.
august seemed so far away, didn’t it?
imagine – no, i don’t want to.
i admire You so much.

fear sleeps in my heart.

i fear for You much more than i fear for myself.

posted by Open Source Food @ 2:41 PM