An Ode to My Caregiver

Photo by Bonita Smith

When we stood on that hill,

The one overlooking that string

Of mountains - snow-covered -

In the spring, love on the air

The Wedding Tree -

Doesn’t even know it’s name -

And you said, “I do.”

Were you considering that

One day you might receive

A phone call, “I’m not okay?”

You’d race to the trailhead

And then, to the hospital

Where we are reunited,

But it is hard for me to see you

My eyes, shifting left and right,

My neck only allowing for the ceiling.

Desperate to see you,

To see that you’re okay,

And not mad at me,

An assurance we’ll get more together. .

But it is here that you say,

“I do” over and over again.

As if you always knew,

As if you were always willing.

And so start the ice chips,

The whispered words,

And hand holding over

The bed rails, sips of water.

You are here every day.

You wait while I go to surgery

You wait, with all that is unknown.

You are at the mercy of what is next.

And so am I. You peel endless

Oranges for my consumption.

You clean my face and arms,

Every abrasion gently washed.

So many cups of water.

As if willing me to live,

To return me to some living,

To heal and to recover.

Once home, you are thrumming.

Every transfer shaky.

Wounds leak onto every

Surface I touch.

Loads of laundry a day,

While I just sit and dirty

Everything within reach,

A perpetual contamination

Meds are on time

Lovenox to my belly at nine and nine.

You sleep in the other room

When my snoring rouses.

I get bird baths in the shower,

You are careful to avoid

My incisions, careful to give

Me life and a congruent smell.

I can’t do anything

Or don’t know if I can and

You are so gentle and

So exposed, both of us vulnerable.

Your love beyond anything

I can fathom, your

‘I do’ is one of ready action

And I just sit here, receiving.

Around me Dead Kevin

Accumulates, and you vacuum

And vacuum, my exfoliation

An endless sign of almost dying.

My Caregiver takes me

On field trips - bakery, rail trail,

Costco - I couldn’t be happier

To see the sky, and to feel

The air moving quickly through

My hair faster than any effort

Alone in my wheelchair.

You give and give and give

And all I can do is take.

Your ‘I dos’ tested and found

To be endless, without restriction,

Unconditional. And you never

Knew when we stood there,

Hope in our eyes for all our tomorrows

Not knowing yet about our todays,

But here we are, living,

And you keep saying

“I do” to me, and to

whatever life it is

that we have left.